I, Melly
by TheScarlettStarlet
Summary: 1888. Melanie Wilkes has been born into a family with many secrets. As she blossoms into a young belle, she is confronted by the ghosts of the past her mother has tried to shield her from...
1. Chapter 1

_1. Enter Melanie_

The morning sun rose over the inlet, and a light, balmy breeze blew in from the sea, giving the merchant ships an extra push as they headed off to distant ports. Amelia Island and its surrounding town of Fernandina were known for the milieu of backgrounds of the locals, who drew from the finest families who had migrated south for the milder climate as well as former seafarers and adventurers striving to make a respectable name for themselves. But it was a pretty, cosmopolitan little world, for all that it was a tiny seaside Florida town; the natural beauty of the island was in full bloom and the sandy banks of the beach were adorned with high pitched laughter of children playing in the sand, of families enjoying the sun, and of young couples basking in the glow of one another's company. Wild horses ran in the distance, on the neighboring Cumberland Island, their spirits as free and untamed as the mighty ocean. It might seem odd to consider such a place as one's backyard, but Melanie Robillard Wilkes did. Born and raised on the island, she had played on that very beach for as long as she could remember. When she would go into town with her parents, the local folk would wave and pinch her cheeks and remark to her mother how pretty she was.

At thirteen, she was still pretty, if not beautiful, and Amelia Island had claimed her for its very own junior belle. Even more extraordinary than her great good looks were the circumstances by which her family had come to the area. Her black-haired, green-eyed mother, Scarlett, had been living under a cloud of scandal when her nefarious husband actually divorced her, then made a further spectacle out of himself while parading around the city of Atlanta with a young French mistress. Her father, Ashley Wilkes, had been well known and well liked in the city, but had lost his beloved wife two years previous. Luckily, he hadn't been the least bit threatened by the idea of scandal, and he had rescued her mother from the embarrassing predicament and married her himself…of course, it had had nothing to do with her mother's still striking looks and deep pockets.

A mere six months after marriage, Melly had made her grand entrance into the world, and a year later, the family had uprooted completely from Atlanta and taken up residence in Fernandina, a small but vibrant community with plenty of culture, but less rigid in social mores than the establishment of Atlanta or Charleston.

Although Melly was well liked in town, there were very few young girls of her class and education, and she missed her sister Ella, who lived in Georgia with her husband Joe Fontaine. It was only the knowledge that they adored one another that made the separation bearable for Melly, that and the fact that Joe had liked Ella well before they had gotten engaged three years previous, so there had been no surprise when he had gotten up the nerve to ask for her hand. It had been lovely, he had spoken with Melly's Papa and older brother, then knelt down in front of the Christmas tree with the sapphire ring his Daddy had given his Mamma when he'd asked her. When they had married the previous June, Ella had moved into Joe's family home, Mimosa, in Clayton County, but every few months, they would spend weeks at a time on the Island. Although Ella hoped that eventually they might remain permanently, Joe's property had to be considered. Even if he didn't want to devote his life to planting and picking cotton that would never render him as wealthy a man as his forebears, Joe and his stepfather Alex worked as hard as field hands to make sure that it was at least one of the best farms in the County, and Ella, not wanting to be an overbearing wife, accepted her position gracefully, knowing she did have the beach house to escape to, if she needed it.

Her lovely coal-colored eyes lit up with pleasure, Melanie held the hand of her sister as they kicked off their shoes and began to dance among the ebbing waves, braving the still chilly March waters. Laughing, they ran down the beach, the sun kissing their faces.

"I hope you found that worthwhile!" Ella chastised her giggling sister, "the sun is brighter than it seemed, and my punishment shall be extended for days for going without my hat!"

"Oh Ella! It wouldn't be right if your husband spirited you back to Georgia without even one day playing on the beach."

"I do enough playing on the beach in the summertime! Then I come home to mottled skin and freckles and I spend the winter treating them with buttermilk. I do wish that I had your complexion!"

Melly nodded sympathetically, as her swarthy skin was well suited for the sun.

"But Els, what if I don't see you again before Christmas?"

"Well," her sister said, pursing her lips, "we'll just have to prevail upon Mother to send you to stay with us this summer. Would you like that?"

Melly laughed, her dark eyes sparkling with mischief. "If you're quite sure that I wouldn't bother you and Joe. I won't stay with Aunt Suellen again as long as I live! Uncle Will is just fine, but Aunt Sue! Never!"

"Oh hush it, she's not so bad. Anyway, I think she's had a rather hard life, what with keeping up Tara and all. And eight babies!"

"I suppose that would be trying on the nerves," Melly acquiesced, "Els, why haven't you and Joe had a little one yet?"

Ella chuckled. "Its not for lack of trying. Joe wants a son something awful. His mama gives me fits with her fussing. 'Don't do this and that, riding causes miscarriage, Ella; travel causes miscarriage, Ella!'"

"Well?" Melly asked seriously, "don't they?"

"I'm not with child, sweetie. I know it."

"How?"

Ella giggled, "I suppose Mother's not had that talk with you yet. She waited far too long with me. I was convinced that I had some incurable disease and was going to die."

"Whatever for?" Melly's eyes widened with curiosity.

"I'll tell you when you're older," Ella promised. "Race you to the house?"

"Go!" Melly scurried like a fiddler crab as fast as her legs would carry her with the weight of her wet hem. Ella too grabbed her straw covered cane hat and shoes and followed her baby sister, laughing merrily.

They found their mother waiting on the veranda in the company of Mammy, whose ancient old eyes were blurred with blindness, but she cracked a wide smile as Melly and Ella walked up the porch steps.

"Same as allus," Mammy chastised lovingly, "Ah kin tell you chillun been on that beach wid no shoes. Ah's done tole you, Miss Ella, sin' you was a chile, and Miss Melly, Ah's tole you, yesterday!"

Melly kissed the old black face, and immediately the woman straightened in her chair and smiled, saying: "sweet chile…"

"Oh Mother!" Melly flung herself into her mother's waiting arms tragically. "Why must Ella go?"

"Because my darling, Ella has a husband that's going to be missing her terribly."

Melly thought that she noticed a certain look pass between her mother and sister, but ignored it as her father stepped out onto the veranda, a glass of iced tea in his hand.

"Papa!"

His eyes glittered brightly as he swung her around. "Well, it looks like you did it again, my girl. Whatever are we to do with you, little Melly? And you too, Ella Lorena, for leading your sister astray."

"I did nothing!" Ella laughed, "Melly was the one who started it! Although I admit that I enjoyed every glorious second. I do hate to return to Clayton County and reality."

"Ah yes," he replied with fondness, "There is no substitute for this. The birds, the sound of the ocean air…the feel of the water and sand beneath one's feet is without description!"

"Oh Ashley, how you do run on!" Melly's mother chided.

"I'm sorry my dear, I do get carried away."

"Back to your poetry with you," she said with cool gentleness. "And kiss Ella goodbye!"

"My dear," he obliged and kissed her lightly on the cheek. "My best to Joe and Alex and Sally."

"Goodbye, Uncle Ashley," Ella wrapped her arms around his tall, thin form.

"He still doesn't look well," she whispered furtively to her mother after he had returned to the house.

"He's not," Scarlett acknowledged. "And I don't know what to do about it. He catches cold so easily and he's always sick, and no matter how many times the doctor comes, he never tells us anything we don't already know. Sickness of the lungs, plenty of rest…"

"Hmm," Ella said in a dreamy voice. "You could take him to Atlanta to see the new specialist. He's only recently arrived from Europe, but Maybelle Pecard was telling me about him at Susie's wedding last month…she said he cured her mother's rheumatism! Imagine!"

"Fiddle-dee-dee!" Scarlett said with a dismissive wave of her hand. "You didn't tell me that you saw Maybelle; was there anyone else there?"

"No one of consequence," Ella said pointedly, then glanced over at Melly, who sat at Mammy's feet, being quiet but listening intently. "You must let Melly come visit this summer, Mother. She's old enough now. And you know that everyone from back home longs to see her. Aunt Sue and Uncle Will haven't even seen her since she was little!"

"And you think they will like what they see?" Scarlett said evenly.

"I'd like to go, Mother," Melly piped up. "I'd like to see Mimosa and Tara again. I scarcely remember them."

"You'll see them again someday, darling," Scarlett said, then met Ella's eyes.

"He won't be there, Mother. I doubt if he's set one foot in the County since the day he told us goodbye."

"Forgive me, dear," Scarlett said gently but firmly, "I don't wish to discuss _him_."

"Who?" Melly inquired, then pulled on the hem of Mammy's skirt. "Who are they talking about, Mammy? No one ever tells me anything!"

"Look ter me lak Miss Scarlett and Miss Ella sayin things that don' concern Little Miss."

"Mammy's right, baby," Scarlett addressed her younger daughter. "Go into the house and change. And don't tarry! Ella's train leaves within the hour."

Melly obeyed and shut the screen door behind her, but she lingered and listened to the ongoing conversation that was not meant for her ears.

"You can't hide her here forever, Mother. Sooner or later someone is bound to notice."

"They won't!"

"I did see him once, Mother. It was right after the wedding and Joe took me to Atlanta for the weekend and we stayed in the bridal suite at the National…anyway, he was there with that same French woman he's had for years. He looked terrible of course, all bloated around his face and his waistline is double what it used to be. And he stopped me and met Joe and mumbled some congratulations."

"Did he mention me?"

"Yes. He said…oh Mother, it was ghastly. Right in front of Joe, he said, 'I hope he's as pleasing to her in real life as he was in her dreams while she was married to me!'"

"He didn't!"

"It's God's truth. Ask Joe!"

"It was a horrible time, Ella. I know you're too young to remember it all, but I think Wade might."

"I remember him coming to Tara and spending the night. We thought he was returning for good."

"You know him! No sooner had he stepped into the front door, he began to look for the back! He had no intention of staying, God rot him. But then-"

"Melly." Ella said.

"And Ashley's been so good," Scarlett said emphatically, "he truly has. And he's helped me to forget about _him_ for good and all. So, I won't place myself in a position where I have to face the music. From the way you picture him, it sounds like he'll die sooner rather than later. It's a pity he had to ruin himself. But he didn't ruin me!"

"Oh good Lord, Mother, I didn't mean to bring all this up. It's been such a pleasant trip, it really has. I'm sorry!"

Scarlett gave her daughter a smile. "Please, don't be sorry. You know that you don't have to tiptoe around that subject around me. We can laugh about it now. And I can be content knowing that I have as much money as I ever need and can take care of Melly and Ashley properly and have no one to answer to but myself. You don't know how wonderful that feeling is!"

"I can imagine, Mother," Ella said lovingly. "But you can't deny that you miss the passion of the marriage bed."

Scarlett burst out laughing. "You forget that I'm an old woman, Ella! I'm not a blushing bride like you with an eager young husband. Besides, I'd like to think that I've had enough marital passion to last the average woman a lifetime! Melly!"

The sound of her mother's voice startled Melly, who was suddenly clutched by a sense of bewilderment. She had always known that her mother had been twice widowed and once divorced, but the strange words and references to things that were ever so slightly above her head weighed heavy upon her. So her mother's last husband was alive somewhere… He suddenly became human, tangible as he had never been before.

"Coming, Mother," Melly called, hurriedly bounding up the stairs to her room and returning moments later wearing a clean dress and dry shoes.

"Don't you clean up prettily," Ella squeezed her shoulder affectionately as she floated inside to see that all her belongings had been packed.

Melly noticed that her mother looked weary as she stared into the horizon, her green eyes a little misty. She was the embodiment of love and all else that was good, and to think of her as human seemed somewhat sacrilegious.

"Don' worry, chile. Ah don' see no sense in you gwine home."

"I do miss Tara, Mammy. But you understand, don't you?"

"Yes, chile. Ah 'stand fine. Ah's proud of mah lamb, you is don' Miss Ellen proud, chile."

And Scarlett sighed contentedly, remembering a time when she had envisioned herself as old, married to Ashley and like Ellen…what was ironic was that she wished it could be otherwise…

_**NB: My first foray into fanfiction! I would appreciate your opinion! :)_


	2. Chapter 2

_2. Leave-taking_

If Bonnie had been Gerald O'Hara's granddaughter through and through, there could be no doubt whatsoever that Melly was Ellen's. Where Bonnie had been a sweet, selfish darling prone to tantrums and fits, Melly had inherited Ellen's gentleness as well as her height. The graciousness, kindness, and forgiving nature had to come from somewhere…most assuredly not from me, Scarlett thought with pride as she reflected on the matter, and most assuredly not from _him_, God rot him.

But Melly was growing up. Already her figure was becoming more shapely, more like a woman than a girl; but she was smart, too! Thanks to Ashley's diligent teachings, she could speak French by the time she was five, read Latin by the time she was six; she had committed large portions of the classics to memory, and it was their favorite pastime to reenact large portions of various plays for Scarlett's entertainment, for all that she didn't have a clue as to what it was they were performing. But in one arena she lacked: she did not yet know the graces of being attractive to men! However could she? There were very few young men in Fernandina, and not one among them a potential candidate for marriage. Besides, Scarlett conceded to herself, Melly was far too young to begin considering such things. To admit that Melly was a young lady was to admit to herself that her last, most cherished baby was ready to leave the nest and face the wild world. And that was something that Scarlett was not prepared to do, not just yet.

To Scarlett's indignation, it was Ashley who first broached the difficult subject one summer evening.

"I've been thinking hard about Ella's suggestion, Scarlett. Melly needs to get out the house more. She has no playmates, no interaction with the other girls."

"That's because the girls her age in town are either Yankees or white trash, and I don't want her associating with either."

"Well, what about sending her to the County for the summer? Suellen has girls her age, and I'm sure there are others. I'd be interested to see where some of the Atlanta girls are being sent to school."

"School? Who said anything about school? I went for two years to a so-called school and didn't learn a thing!"

"You learned well enough how to set a man's heart a-tremble, if I recall."

"Oh fiddle-dee-dee. But there are other options, Ashley, closer ones. The Saint Joseph's Academy for Women accepts day students! Besides, you've already got her reading more than I ever did at her age!"

"She thrives on learning, Scarlett, _thrives _on it. She's not like you in that regard, my dear. And St. Joe's will teach her no more than penmanship and embroidery. What she needs is Europe…"

"And who do you suggest should take her there? You?"

"I would in an instant if I thought I could make the trip. But if not Europe, Scarlett, then New York or Boston. You certainly had no reservations about sending Wade off to Europe for his Tour. Or for Beau going off to medical school."

"She's not Beau or Wade! She's a little girl, Ashley!"

"She's not a child, Scarlett!"

"She is _my _child."

Ashley sighed heavily. "I realize that. But I would like a say in her future. I think that I've earned that."

"You want to take her away from me."

"No, not in the least. But she's a caged bird here, Scarlett. She speaks and sings beautifully, but has no one to hear her. She needs to fly, Scarlett!"

"Why must you always talk that way?"

"I think that you know I'm right. You can't protect her forever, my dear. You've raised her well. She needs to see some of her people. She needs to see Twelve Oaks and Tara; my God, Scarlett, she doesn't even remember them! Beau doesn't care anything for plantation life; it'll all be Melly's inheritance when I die."

"Ashley!"

She hated nothing more than to hear him run on about his mortality; dreadfully afraid was she that Melly would hear him and fret over it. But the truth was becoming more and more evident as the years passed that Ashley was not a well man. He's lucky to be alive, Doctor Meade had told her after he had shocked her with the diagnosis of consumption. Ashley had always been so strong, physically at least. So much rage and anguish had filled her when she had realized that she was going to lose him one day, along with everything else; and Doctor Meade had given him little hope, save for the suggestion to relocate to a coastal climate. But Ashley had defied the prediction thus far, and he had been able to hide his condition from Melly. So many secrets, Scarlett thought, all the while reassuring herself that they were in place for Melly's own good.

"I don't have any delusions of attaining a great age, Scarlett. And when I do die, which may in fact be quite soon, I want to be able to do it knowing that I've done everything I possibly could for her. She deserves the world, you know."

"I know how much you love her, Ashley. And she adores the ground you walk on, truly. You've been a much better father than he would have been, I'll tell you that much."

"I don't know about that, Scarlett. I won't lie and say that he didn't love Bonnie." He lowered his voice to a whisper as he said the last, "But he forfeited all rights to Melly the day he abandoned you."

"He broke my heart that day," Scarlett sighed. "I didn't expect it. Not even from him."

"But let us not dwell in the past, my dear. You so kindly reminded me once of the harm of imagining the 'what-if's'…I'm happy, Scarlett. And even if I died tomorrow, I would be a happy man."

She squeezed his hand from across the table, then stood up suddenly, her sharp ears detecting a lingering presence at the top of the staircase.

"Melanie Wilkes! Whatever are you doing, eavesdropping on conversations? Come downstairs, please."

Melly slunk down the stairs and landed on her father's lap and buried her face in his chest.

"I wasn't eavesdropping," she mumbled, "I heard voices."

Scarlett raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure…well, what did you hear?"

Melly faced her mother and shrugged.

Ashley held her close, stroking her long silky hair, which had been painstakingly brushed by Mammy. "Your mother and I have been discussing the possibility of sending you to school. A real one, not Saint Joe's."

"Where?"

"Well," Ashley pondered aloud, "Savannah perhaps. Or Charleston. I had even suggested New York."

"Oh no," Melly shook her head vehemently. "Not New York, Papa, please. It's so very far away!"

"That's exactly what I said," Scarlett muttered.

"Melly," Ashley's grey eyes fixed her dark ones, "darling Melly. You're such a clever girl. You've read nearly every book in our library; don't you want to read new things? See new people, new places?"

"Well, I suppose that I do. I've always wanted to see Savannah. Grandmother Robillard was from Savannah…" she said contemplatively. "But Papa, may I come home if I don't like school?"

"Yes, dearest girl. Of course you can. If you're unhappy, you can write to us and we'll come get you straightaway. But think of it this way, you can spend the last part of the summer with Ella, then you'll start school the first of September, you'll be back for the holidays in just a few months, and before you know it, it'll be spring and then another summer. Don't you see how quickly the time will pass?"

She let out a heavy sigh. "Will Beau be able to visit me?"

"Certainly he can, sweetheart. If Savannah is your choice, then Charleston is a very short train ride away. Assuming that he can arrange things with his classes, I'm sure that he could make you a visit to see that you're settled in."

"Really?"

"Really. Now, why don't you go back to bed. There's much to be settled, and we can discuss it further in the morning."

"Mother?" Melly questioned hesitantly. "Are you sure that it's alright with you?"

Scarlett stared dumbfounded at her daughter before blurting out, "why of course, baby!"

With a sense of foreboding, as if she had already lost her child, Scarlett steered her up the stairs and into her bedroom, which overlooked the ocean. The gentle sea breeze wafted through the open window, filling it with the aroma of sand and saltwater. She had never slept in any other room, save for a brief trip to Tara at the age of five. Trying to reconcile in her mind that that trip had turned out well, for it had been then that Ella had first met Little Joe Fontaine, Scarlett pulled up Melly's covers and stroked her cheek. She dismissed quickly the fleeting vision in her head, although the truth undeniably showed in her daughter's high forehead and wide-set inky eyes. She just hoped that others wouldn't notice it. Especially _him_, should Melly have the misfortune to ever cross his path. Surely not! God had been good for thirteen years, surely He would continue to be.

"I remember the day that my parents sent me off to school. The Fayetteville Female Academy. I hated every moment of it. But I was so silly back then, Melly, not at all like you. I didn't think at all about anything but myself and how to make myself pleasing to all the young men that would come calling…"

"I don't believe it, Mother!" Melly said loyally. "Did you love Papa the very most?"

Scarlett let out a small laugh at the remembrance and somehow managed a smile. "I suppose that I did."

Contently, Melly sank back into the pillow. "Will I learn to be a great lady like you, Mother?"

"Oh baby. I'm not a great lady. But I want you to be the greatest lady in the entire South. I don't want you to make any of the mistakes I made when I was younger. But most of all, I want you to be happy."

"I think you're a great lady, Mother." Melly smiled up at her mother, whose eyes were filled with tears.

The first day of August, the date of Melly's departure, came far too soon for her mother, who fretted endlessly over afternoon tea.

"They all taste like sawdust!" Scarlett declared as she threw the offending pastry down on her plate.

"Two more hours," Melly announced as she sank into her chair at the kitchen table. Her green travel dress was longer than her usual one, as befitted a young lady. She looked sixteen rather than thirteen, to her parents' mutual chagrin.

Ashley cleared his throat loudly. "I suppose we'd best make ready for town. Is your trunk ready, darling?"

"Yes, Papa. All packed and ready to sail."

"Mrs. Lee will be waiting with the other young ladies. I think that you'll like them, Melly, even if they are a few years your senior."

"I'm sure I will," she nodded bravely.

"I think it's silly that I'm not sailing with you," Scarlett fumed to no one in particular.

"No, Scarlett. We discussed this." Ashley said firmly, "she needs to do this without her fuddy-duddy parents tailing along!"

"Who are you calling a fuddy-duddy, Ashley Wilkes?" Scarlett smirked.

"I'll miss both of you old fuddy-duddies!" Melly giggled.

"So first I'm a fuddy-duddy and now I'm old!" Scarlett let out a genuine sigh of anguish. "Well, I suppose I am ancient to a ripe old thirteen. I was young and beautiful once, I'll have you know."

"You'll always be beautiful to me, Mother," Melly whispered in her mother's ear, giving her a hug.

Finally, it was time. Scarlett had dug her fingers into the upholstery of the carriage the entire trip into town, Ashley had fiddled with his tie and Mammy, who never traveled anywhere but who had insisted upon coming along, was wiping away tears with her sleeve as she rattled off instructions for Melly.

Even before the harbor came into view, Scarlett steeled herself for the coming goodbye. The carriage stopped and Ashley disembarked first, assisting Scarlett first, then Mammy, and finally Melly.

Melly nervously took in her family's faces, as though she was fixing them in her mind.

"Goodbye, Mammy," she hugged the old dear, who still was weepy-eyed.

"Now brush yo hair. Hun'ed strokes a night, chile. An' 'member says 'yes'm and no'm tah yo elders."

"Oh Mammy! Mammy I promise."

Melly kissed the old woman and then moved onto her father, who was putting on a brave face.

She flung her arms around him and hugged him tight. "Oh Papa! I'll miss you so much."

"Melly, my Melly. I don't know how I shall endure not seeing your smiling face every day, or hearing your laughter…or listening to all the various and sundry inquiries of your sharp little mind. But you'll have all sorts of things to tell me when you return. And I expect a full accounting of it all, my girl."

"Yes, Papa." She turned to Scarlett, whose tears showed no signs of ebbing. "Mother? Mother, don't cry! Mother, it's not goodbye forever."

"I love you, baby," Scarlett whispered.

"I love you, too, Mother!"

Giving her one last hug and kiss, Melly's parents could only watch as their precious child followed Miss Hopewell and Miss Jackson and Mrs. Lee onto the gangplank of the steamship.

"Write every day, darling!" Scarlett yelled over the sounds of the ship making ready to sail. "And I will, also!"

Ashley placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "This experience will form her into the young lady she deserves to be."

"I just hope that it doesn't dim her spirit in any way," Scarlett sniffed. "You know as well as I do that people can be cruel."

"It won't, my dear. I promise you that. Melly's not one to let the opinions of others sway her. She's completely true to herself…very similar to her mother."

They continued to stand there, waving for as long as their eyes could still see the ship out onto the horizon.

_**NB: Everybody saw right through the subtle (or not so subtle) hints in Chapter 1! Now, you'll have to find out the back story along with Melly. :)_


	3. Chapter 3

_Chapter 3-Shadows_

Ella Kennedy Fontaine stood atop the platform at the Jonesboro Depot, waiting anxiously for the train conveying her baby sister from Savannah to pull into the station. The day was fine for early August, not too terribly hot due to a slight northerly breeze.

"No sign of it yet," Joe said as he stood behind her. "Course, it was your idea to get here an hour 'fore she's due in."

She leaned against his wide chest and let out a contented sigh. "I just didn't want her to be kept waiting. She's never been anywhere, Joe, anywhere at all."

"I'm surprised your Mama let her out of the house," Joe commented. "I'm glad Ashley finally got her to see some sense. Kid's too pretty not to be shown off."

Ella nodded in agreement, although she knew exactly why her mother had kept Melly hidden for so long, and she had a fair guess as to why Ashley had insisted that she be sent away. It would be a difficult few months, Ella thought, if she was proven right. But although she owned more insight into the matter than either her brother or Beau, Ella knew that her mother would never reveal all of the circumstances surrounding Melly's birth, nor Ashley's part in it, for that matter, not even to her. But Ella had eyes, and it was not hard for her to see!

"She's just protective." Ella said, "Melly is her last baby…surely you can understand that?"

Joe rolled his eyes; trust his wife to mention babies when they had been trying so desperately to have one, to no avail.

"So answer me this, why the devil did they name their only child after Ashley's dead wife?"

Ella tensed slightly. Although she was sure that Joe was just repeating the question from his mother, others would be sure to think the same thing. It _was _a bit odd. But subtlety had never been her mother's strong suit.

"Well," she began, "I suppose it was because they married later in life, but it seems that they've always more like intimate friends than lovers. And they were both still grieving over Aunt Melly…"

"Well, for 'intimate friends' they made a baby mighty quick, didn't they?" Joe grinned wickedly, then kissed Ella's cheek.

Ella sighed again. "Whatever you say, Joe…"

Thankfully, he didn't discuss the matter further, and the train pulled in at a quarter after noon, right on schedule.

Dear Lord, Ella thought as her baby sister stepped off the train, it _is_ Rhett Butler in miniature. The undeniable look of good blood shone in her face, the thin hawk nose and the full, red lips…but with none of his cynical humor about her mouth. The gown of grey bombazine did nothing but emphasize the youthful curves of her body. Laughing, she turned back toward the train, and giggled as a man's voice behind her called out: "Melly, wait!"

Ella started towards her sister, who jumped into her waiting arms.

"Melly, baby! Melly!" Ella stopped as the young man emerged from the car and shook her head in disbelief. "Why, Wade Hampton Hamilton, wherever have you been hiding yourself?"

Her brother was a nice-looking young man with a riot of dark curls and a thin mustache. He was dressed in a suit of white linen, with a panama hat atop his head, tipped back rather rakishly.

"Isn't he wonderful?" Melly said excitedly. "I was ever so frightened of finding my way around Savannah by myself. My travel companions were on to Saratoga, you see, but who should be waiting for me but Wade! The other girls were so very jealous. They had been so mean to me the whole trip, but when they saw that Wade was my brother, they couldn't wait to get in my good graces."

She looked adoringly up at her older brother, who threw an arm around her shoulder.

"We showed them, didn't we, Melly?" he winked broadly at Ella, then reached out to shake Joe's hand.

"He was splendid, Ella, really! He said just loud enough for them to hear that I was his best girl and that I'd be sure to get jealous if he were philandering with any of them!"

"How gallant of him," Ella rolled her eyes slightly. At twenty-seven, Wade was one of the most eligible bachelors in the entire South, and she knew for a fact that every mother within two hundred miles of the County had schemed for her daughter to be brought into his company in one way or another. But Wade, to Ella's chagrin, still found his primary comfort in the day to day operations of Kennedy & Wilkes, which had become what he termed a conglomeration, having stores in four different states and shipping interests in three different ports; the rest of his activity, Ella suspected, was not of a noble nature. Wade had inherited a penchant for moneymaking from their mother, and enjoyed spending it as well…too well, if one believed the rumors about gambling and loose women in Atlantic City.

Melly was still rambling about her brief stop in Savannah to Joe, who was listening with interest. "And then he took me to meet our great-uncles! They're originally from Ireland, you know. And they told me that I was the loveliest girl they'd ever seen and that I did Grandpa Gerald a credit. They were so kind, and they told me that I was welcome to have supper with them any time. They own a pub, too, Ella, so I can get dinner right after lessons if I wish."

"That's wonderful, Melly, really," Ella said genially, but glared at Wade. "So, I suppose you thought it appropriate to take her into a pub," she whispered furiously to her brother. "Mother would _die _if she knew!"

"Whatever for? Allowing her to meet her kin? I thought it perfectly appropriate. Besides, Uncle James is a good old soul. He'll look after her when none of us are able to do it."

"I have no problem with Uncle Jamie. And I could care less that you are an absolutely confirmed bachelor with a sweetheart in every city, but I do have a problem with you taking our baby sister into a place where she could be subjected to leering men, cards, and liquor!"

Wade laughed uproariously. "Joe, whatever have you done to my sister? You've turned her into a prude."

Joe returned Wade's grin. "What's she done now?"

"She's accused me of corrupting Melly here. Melly, have I done such a thing?"

"Not at all!" Melly said with wide eyes.

"See, I'm vindicated." Wade gave Ella a pat on the back. "Come on, take me to your love nest and let's have a drink. We need to make plans for a trip to Atlanta while I'm here. Melly has to be back for classes in two weeks, so we have a lot to see in a few days."

"Don't be absurd," Ella scoffed. "You know that we're having a barbeque for Melly in two days time. We've been planning it the moment we received Mother's letter that she'd be visiting."

Wade shrugged. "Melly's never been anywhere but Tara, poor mite. I'd like her to see Atlanta. She was born there, after all."

"I was?" Melly piped up.

"Yes," Ella said brusquely, again flashing Wade an evil eye, "but we moved to Amelia very soon after."

"Well," Joe said reasonably, "Melly has two weeks, right? It seems to me that she should be the one to decide what she wants to see."

Wade and Ella looked at their sister expectantly.

"Well," she said in a small voice, not wanting to hurt either of her siblings' feelings, "I would dearly like to see Twelve Oaks. Papa told me all about it, and it sounds lovely."

Joe burst out laughing at that. "Twelve Oaks? Oh Good Lord, girl. She doesn't know anything, does she? We'll pass right by the ruins on the way to Mimosa, honey!"

"What do you mean?" Melly asked, a hurt look upon her face.

Ella sighed. "Your Papa was talking about Twelve Oaks the way it was before the war, baby."

Melly digested this disappointing bit of information in silence, as Joe kept muttering about how silly females were this day and age.

"We can ride out to Tara tomorrow," Ella addressed Melly. "And we'll take a turn up to Twelve Oaks. It's sad, but it is part of our history. Yes, he's right, you should see it…"

The next morning, as promised, Ella awoke early and asked Joe to saddle up two mild-mannered fillies. Melly balked at first, never having been allowed to ride on her own, but Joe insisted that the best way for her to learn was to be promptly set upon the horse without any fuss, and he did just that. Within an hour, she was riding capably, though she still held her reins so tightly that her knuckles were white underneath her gloves.

The two sisters crossed the river and urged their mounts up the hill, and Melly half-expected to see the white columned home of her imagination at its peak. However, there was nothing, save blackened, field-stone foundations, almost totally covered by overgrown brambles.

"What happened?" Melly choked out. "This is it? Why hasn't someone fixed it?"

There was a foreign look in Ella's kind eyes, one of raw hatred. "The land won't heal, baby, not for awhile yet. Mother did your Papa a kindness by buying the property back from the carpetbagger who bought it at auction. Its too much for us to tackle. We've got enough to do at Mimosa. But maybe someday…someday, it can be grand again. Perhaps when you're mistress of Twelve Oaks, it'll rise again, stronger and better for having endured these things."

"Papa never talks about the war," Melly sat down on the ground, too sickened by the sight to look upon it any further. "He says that it makes him sad. And Mother won't talk about anything that happened back then, either. I asked her about your Daddy once, and Wade's too. All she said was that I asked too many damn questions."

Ella smiled at the thought of her mother, so clever and so proud…and so passionately keeping the hurt of the past bottled up underneath the surface. Poor Mother!

"Mother means well, baby. And your Papa too. They saw horrible things during that war that we can't even imagine. Take this house, for instance. The rightful owner's family sold out for taxes because they lost everything! When the Yankees marched through this land, they burned everything, homes, crops, livestock…our whole way of life. Everything, just gone."

Melly shook her head, pondering. "Poor Papa. And Mother too. No wonder they don't want to tell me anything about it. Mammy too, but she's so odd at times these days, Ella. Just the other day, I was sitting the table for breakfast and Mammy said, 'Lahd Jesus, its Miss Bonnie back from the grabe!' and I ran to the old dear and said that it was me, and she began to cry. I didn't know what to do, Els, it was dreadful!"

Ella shuddered involuntarily, for Bonnie was an unwelcome specter from her own childhood. Life had inevitably gotten better for Ella after Bonnie's death, though she felt horribly guilty for thinking such thoughts. Melly had been spared the pain of those horrible memories her entire life; perhaps Ashley had just been savvy enough to realize that Mammy was no longer capable of keeping them to herself. That would be infinitely preferable to the alternative, that Ashley was…

"I'm sorry that Mammy said that, sweet girl. You must remember that she's very old, and she has a lifetime of memories inside her head."

"I know, of course!" Melly said quickly, "I wasn't angry at all, just surprised. And I asked her what she meant, and who Bonnie was…but she just sat down at the table and wept until Mother came downstairs." She paused and looked up at her sister quizzically.

"Who do you think she meant?"

Ella felt her heart skip a beat. Damn her mother and her little façade! This child was a young woman and she would learn about Bonnie from someone, and it would sound a lot less pleasant coming from someone other than her mother's mouth. But at the sight of Melly's eyes, wide and dark and full of innocence and trust, Ella opened her mouth, but said nothing.

Finally, she shrugged and said, "I'm not sure, baby."

Melly seemed to accept it as the truth, and Ella helped her sister onto her mare, then mounted her own, falling into an easy trot on the way back to Mimosa.

"Ella Fontaine!" a loud female voice called from behind them as they approached the long avenue.

"Why Mrs. Tarleton," Ella said with honeyed sweetness, "it's good to see you. Had I known you'd be calling, I would have delayed my ride."

"I didn't send a note over, honey. I just needed a word with Sally and she said you had company. I declare, that can't be Scarlett's littlest!"

Melly slid off her horse and stood next to Ella, slightly put off by the older woman's brusque tone.

"Yes," Ella smiled, "this is Miss Melanie Wilkes. She'll be staying with Joe and I for the next week or so, then she'll begin classes at Saint Vincent's in Savannah."

"Hmm," Mrs. Tarleton murmured with a disappointed pursing of her lips. "That's a pity. I was hoping that she'd be staying a good long visit. My own daughters teach school right here in the County; they'd do the job capably."

Ella had to smirk at the Tarleton girls' notion of teaching. The two unmarried ones had been at it for years, although she privately wondered if they could spell three words between the pair of them. She bristled at the idea of her sensitive, brilliant sister in the hands of those two Neanderthals.

"You know my Uncle Ashley, Mrs. Tarleton. Only the best for his little girl," Ella said politely, her intention marked.

Sure enough, Mrs. Tarleton's eyes widened with interest as she appraised Melly, who wanted nothing more than to disappear behind Ella. "I must say, a finer looking Wilkes filly I've yet to lay eyes on. Thank Heaven the poor little thing's not washed out looking like her aunts. Of course, Ashley was a good looking devil in his day, and Scarlett's always been a fancy piece…not at all delicate like his first wife. Scarlett's children all turned out handsome, but you can see the Kennedy blood in Ella here, and Hamilton's written all over Wade Hampton's face…you certainly have very little Wilkes in you, my girl, from what I can see! Scarlett O'Hara through and through. Of course, that could be a blessing…"

Ella squeezed Melly's shoulder, sensing her discomfort. "It's quite hot out, Mrs. Tarleton, won't you come inside?"

Momentarily diverted from her commentary to another topic which interested her, Mrs. Tarleton quickly fixed her gaze upon Ella. "Indeed it is. And you should not be riding, dear girl. Riding is one of the leading causes of miscarriages. You wouldn't want to lose one ere you knew it had been conceived."

"Yes ma'am," Ella murmured, then whispered to Melly. "Why don't you see if you can find Wade Hampton? It only seems fair that he should have to undergo the same scrutiny as us, don't you think?"

Melly smiled weakly and bobbed her head, quickly handing off her horse's reins to a waiting servant at the barn and heading off towards the back steps of the house. If she was lucky, she could slip back to the safety of the guestroom and not have to encounter the vile Mrs. Tarleton again. She tiptoed up the stairs and took a peek into the hallway, not wanting to run into Ella's mother-in-law and be ushered back to the conversation. Why ever had Mrs. Tarleton felt the need to bring up her Papa's first wife? Of course she had heard of her, that she had been her Mother's best friend and a fine lady…but the way Mrs. Tarleton had put it, it seemed that Melly's mother had stolen her Papa away from that other Melanie! And then that woman had examined her like a prize sow at market day. How dare she?

Hot tears filled Melly's eyes as she realized that she wanted nothing more than to go home to her parents' and Mammy's loving arms. She didn't belong in this place any more than her Papa did, and she felt as empty as the charred ruin that had been Twelve Oaks.

Melly peered over the banister and listened to the conversation below with relative interest. Sally had steered Ella and Mrs. Tarleton into the drawing room, and was loudly going on and on about someone called Captain Butler.

Ella seemed anxious to shift the conversation to a new subject, but Melly couldn't make out her sister's words. Mrs. Tarleton's voice billowed as she addressed Ella, "I'm having a small dinner party this coming, Saturday, and you must come. As must that darling little sister of yours. And your handsome husbands are welcome too, ladies. You'll come, won't you?"

No Ella, Melly willed her sister silently, I can't endure any more of it.

"Unfortunately, Wade has already accepted an invitation on behalf of us all to the 12th Night Ball in Atlanta."

"Whatever is that?"

"It's so called in honor of the Glorious 12th, the end of the London season, of course," Ella rattled off with cultured eloquence. "I've been longing to go for years, and Wade's always getting himself invited to such things. And since he's still a bachelor, he's asked me to be his escort."

"You didn't tell me you had an invitation!" Sally shrilled, her irritation stemming from not being told something rather than from any sort of disapproval.

"Wade told me just today," Ella said coolly. "But I doubt very much that Joe will want to accompany me, and I'm sure that he would be delighted to escort you to Mrs. Tarleton's party, Mama Sally. As for Melly, I think it essential that she meet her Aunt Pittypat and Uncle Henry Hamilton. They're both getting on in years and both long to see her."

"We _all _have longed to see that child," Mrs. Tarleton smirked. "What a sly boots that Scarlett is…"

As the voices trailed off into, lowering into whispers, Melly rested her head against the cool wood of the banister, wondering if Atlanta would prove kinder and less ghostly than the County had been…

_**NB: Next stop, Atlanta; I wonder who might be there?…A heartfelt thank you goes out to the reviewers. Your comments have been awesome, and make me want to write, write, write! This is the first story I've written since college, and it's the first time I've ever written GWTW, so I really appreciate the helpful and inspiring words. :)_


	4. Chapter 4

_Chapter 4-Meeting Captain Butler_

"Well, Melly's taking her nap. Poor little dear. When I was her age I would have committed murder to be able to afford such a dress as the one she's wearing to the ball tonight and all she could say was 'Ella, how many different shades of grey could there possibly be?' Grey! It's the only color she's got in her entire wardrobe. Grey and tan and lilac. She says that they're the only colors that suit her complexion. Why would Mother allow it?"

Wade shrugged nonchalantly. "She is rather swarthy. The other girls are proud of their white skin, Mother included. Mother probably enforces the policy; I doubt if Melly would have gotten the idea herself."

"You understand Mother, don't you? You know, I do believe you inherited a larger share of her vanity than I!"

"Ha! I just spend more time with young women than you do, _Mrs._ Fontaine. You, sister dear, were promised to Joe for so long, you never had to face the agony of catching a husband."

"And do you tell all of the young women with whom you keep company that you're not a marrying man?"

Wade grinned broadly. "They find out eventually."

Ella rolled her eyes. "You're horrible. Try not to embarrass Melly tonight with your vile behavior."

He feigned a hurt look on his face. "Vile? I do declare, my dear, everyone in Clayton County thought that I was a perfect gentleman. I do believe that Honey Wilkes would have paid good money just for me to dance with her daughter…not that I would have accepted. I've never seen such a case!"

"Don't be mean, Wade. But speaking of the barbeque, did you think that Aunt Suellen was a bit odd?"

"How so?"

"Well, she downright ignored Melly the entire time, then Susie barely acknowledged me as she was leaving."

"Well, you did try to bite her ear off as a child…perhaps she still remembers."

Ella blushed as they both remembered the incident, but she finally chuckled. "She deserved it."

"You were such a little monster back then!" Wade grinned. "I'd never think that the fine lady before me was such a horror."

"Oh, I was not! I was never that bad."

"You were so. Tantrums, bullying…you punched Beau in the nose once, if I recall."

"That was for his own good. It was right after Mother told us that she was going to marry Uncle Ashley and he made such a fuss about it. Little ninny!"

Wade grinned. "Not much has changed, eh? I'm glad that our Melly hasn't a shortage of spirit. Not that I don't think Uncle Ashley's a swell fellow, but he was too weak and indecisive with Beau. And Aunt Melly was far too kindhearted. She never would say no to anyone, least of all her only boy." He paused for a moment, then continued, "D'you think Bonnie would have turned out the same way, if she'd lived?"

Ella stiffened in her seat, pondering the question. "Yes and no. I think that Bonnie was spoiled beyond redemption…but she wasn't always a screaming, crying little termagant like Beau. She was made that way because _he _couldn't bring himself to deny her anything, and the servants and even Mother was scared to defy him."

"Oh come on, Ella," Wade cajoled. "He has a name. You needn't speak of him as if he were some unmentionable ailment of the nether region."

"Wade!" she chided, scandalized. "You really must mind your tongue around Melly."

"You worry too much, Els. She needs some exposure to the world outside the pretty little fantasy land they've created for her down there. You know, I believe that Mother has done her a grave disservice by locking her up all these years. That's going to change tonight. She's going to be the belle of the ball, and every buck age sixteen and over is going to want to marry her."

"Mother had her reasons for raising her the way she did," Ella snapped, "and it's not your place to question them. And you're an idiot if you think that I'm going to allow her to be put on display for the Old Guard. I only consented to come to this godforsaken city just to get rid of Mrs. Tarleton!"

"I think she'd find it amusing. The ball I mean, not their hateful tongues. But they'd never say anything to her face about it."

"About what?" Ella said with a start.

"About Mother being a divorcee. Whatever else would she have to be embarrassed over? But really, it is a non-issue these days. Mother's been out of the picture so long, I think she's old news."

So he had no idea. That was good, Ella thought; men should not be in possession of such dangerous information…

Ella knew that the 12th Night Ball was going to be the premier event of the Atlanta social season, so she had taken great pains in her appearance. Her gingery hair was pulled back in an elegant chignon and her rich gown of sapphire hue perfectly complemented her engagement and wedding rings. It was completely vulgar of her to wear the diamond _and_ the sapphire. But she was no longer at liberty to show off her magnolia white chest, so she might as well show off something! Melly was her pride and joy, in a high-necked, cream colored vision that did much better things for her black hair than a grey gown would have, Ella insisted.

Wade had fumbled for his baby sister's hand when he had met them in the foyer of the National, bowing and gallantly kissing it.

"You take my breath away, sisters dears." Wade grinned. "I'll be the most talked about man at the ball, having two belles on my arm."

You'll be the most talked about man, Ella thought to herself, but not because of any of our merits…they'll be too busy associating and comparing us with Mother!

Ella knew better than to believe that Atlanta society had forgotten about her mother. She had always been a topic of conversation, no one could dispute that, for all that her supposed offenses had occurred so many years before. Unfortunately, Ella mused, that could easily lead to worse allegations when it came to Melly, and her mother's long absence would only serve to fuel those rumors. Even if they didn't see the resemblance to the man who was not Melly's supposed father, the fact that Ashley had married her mother less than two years after his first wife's death and not even a month after her divorce had been finalized would be among the more sordid details that would be whispered behind Melly's back. Not that it was any of their business why Scarlett had disappeared for so many years, or where she was during that absence! But they were a notoriously long-minded lot, and when it came to gossip about the one-time most hated woman in Atlanta, they wouldn't be happy unless they were inventing new scandals and reliving old ones.

Ella had no doubt that most of the stories they would tell about her mother had a sound basis in fact; indeed, she had told all of her children proudly how she had made friends with the Yankee carpetbaggers in order to beat them at their own game. Wade resonated with that philosophy a little too well… But Ella knew damn well those lingering rumors regarding Ashley and her mother before their marriage were scurrilous lies, and she had no qualms about blaming one man alone for their continued existence: Rhett Butler. His menacing attitude made it easy for the more genteel folks to speculate about him, but never want to voice their opinions aloud. Why ever would they? He was like a lurking snake, deadly if provoked. Instead, as always, they blamed Ella's mother for his sins, as though Scarlett had single-handedly ruined the man.

As they entered the ballroom of the luxurious National, all ablaze with light and color, the band was playing a waltz.

"Well, I'm off," Wade squeezed Ella's shoulder and hurried to rendezvous with one of his many sweethearts.

"They're all staring at me," Melly fretted, wringing her little hands.

"Who is, baby?" Ella glanced around the room. "I'm quite sure that they're just admiring how pretty you are, sweet."

"That man over there has not broken his gaze since we walked in, see?"

Ella's eyes followed Melly's to a corner of the room, and widened as she rested them upon the man who stood there, arms crossed. Ella was sure that she would have recognized the man even if he had been wearing a full mask. His manner of walking was distinctive, and his body still powerful. He looked much more impressive from far away than he did up close, Ella had to concede, his eyes were clear tonight, the blackest she had ever beheld. They made eye contact once, and he simply stared at her without expression.

"Go talk to Aunt Pitty, Melly," Ella said, her eyes fixed upon the man.

"We should say hello," Wade appeared behind his sister, a glass of champagne in his hand. "I'm very surprised to see him here; he's never out much. I assumed that he would scorn this sort of occasion…"

"He's probably not invited to many events," Ella said bitterly. "I'm quite shocked that any lady of quality would include him on her guest list, the way he carries on with that piece of French pastry!"

Wade stifled a burst of laughter. "You do realize that he's still the one of the richest men in the entire country, right? He gets invited to everything by virtue of that alone."

"Not the quality folks," Ella insisted. "You can't buy quality."

"I'm sure he's figured that out," Wade said wryly, "but we really must say hello. If not you, me. I have business interests I need to discuss with him."

"Doing business with the enemy," she muttered. "Well I certainly shan't pay homage to him. And kindly don't tell him that Melly's here."

"Why ever not? I thought he'd get a kick out of meeting her."

"That's quite alright. Let him stay on that side of the room and we'll stay on this one, thank you very much. He makes me shudder just looking at him."

"Shame on you," Wade teased, "where is your spirit of charity?"

"It left me entirely when he abandoned us. You were already half-grown. You were able to forgive him, but not me, Wade. Not me."

"I wouldn't say that my forgiveness was complete and total, but I understand him. He was devastated after Bonnie died, and I think he felt like Mother didn't care."

"Oh bother what he thought! Mother threw herself at him again and again, followed him all the way to Charleston after he'd left the first time. And then that performance at Tara! Need I remind you? There he was, all penitent and nice and then the next morning…poof. Gone."

Wade shrugged. "I don't know, Els. All I know is that he's not had an easy time of it. Mother had Ashley at least."

"You don't know the half of it," Ella snapped.

"Let me at least introduce Melly," Wade suggested. "Don't you think he would like to meet Mother's daughter?"

"I can't imagine why; after all, it was his decision to divorce Mother. Besides, I think it would be quite unfair to Melly."

"You don't think he knows that? I mean that it _was _his decision. I rather think he's happy that Mother was able to move on from it. He always speaks warmly of her, in conversation. You know, I think I he turns up at these things in the hope of seeing us."

"That does seem rather decent of him, doesn't it?" Ella rolled her eyes. "Unfortunately, I wouldn't trust a word out of his mouth and I certainly won't speak to him. He downright accosted Joe and I on our last trip down, and it was as uncomfortable for him as it was for me, I can assure you."

"Very well," Wade threw up his hands in mock defeat. "I've lost sight of him anyway. Where has Melly run off to?"

"Over there," Ella pointed out, "with Aunt Pittypat. I do declare, she's winning Auntie over quite capably."

Melly's own black eyes met theirs, and she waved at them, then continued her conversation with Aunt Pitty as though the silly old woman had the most interesting things in the world to relay.

"She needs to be dancing," Wade said, "not cavorting with silly old women."

"She's too young for that. I probably shouldn't have allowed her to put her hair up, but I couldn't for the life of me get it to curl. It's as Indian straight as Mother's, and I wanted her to fit in with the other girls."

"I think that she would have drawn the attention of all even without her hair all done up," Wade observed with pride. "And that gown…"

"Oh stop it, won't you? I wanted her to feel special. She's terribly shy, and its because Mother doesn't allow her any friends. That and I think that Ashley's taught her to abhor anything of a frivolous nature."

"Well, you did well, Els. Ah," Wade pecked his baby sister on the cheek as she appeared at his side. "If it isn't the belle of the ball! Having fun?"

"Very much," Melly said, though her eyes relayed the truth, that she was merely waiting for the affair to be over.

"How would you like to dance with me?" Wade grinned down at her.

"Oh no!" Melly cast her eyes downward demurely. "I don't know how, and I wouldn't want to embarrass you."

"Perhaps next year, baby," Ella said protectively.

"Well, I have a full dance card," Wade smirked with devilish delight. "I'd best see which of them is most determined to get her paws on my charming self tonight."

"Oh please," Ella chortled. "You know quite well that it's your money they're after, Wade Hampton!"

"You cut me to the quick, Sis," he smirked, then made his way over to the giggling group of belles. His sisters managed to hold back the laughter that was threatening to burst out at the sight of grown women nearly swooning at the sight of him.

"You know, Melly, I do believe that half of them are here just to have a chance to dance with him."

Melly giggled, but said seriously, "I'm glad that it's him and not me on display."

Ella's tender heart nearly broke at the thought that the County folk had made Melly feel so very out of place. "What makes you say that, baby? You were prettiest girl in the room without a doubt, of course they couldn't keep their eyes off of you."

"I doubt that," Melly said. "Do you think that I'm odd, Els? Aunt Pitty said that I look like an Indian."

"Why ever would she say that?" Ella burst out, horrified.

"I'm not sure…she seemed rather flustered after she said it, then asked me to fetch her smelling salts, which I did. And then Aunt India told me not to bother her anymore, so…" Melly stared down at her hands. "Will we leave soon?"

"Of course, baby," Ella said soothingly, "let's see if we can get Wade away from Miss Elsing long enough to squire us back to the hotel."

As if on command, Wade appeared behind her, the giggling Miss Elsing still firmly attached to his arm.

"Ella Kennedy, it's been ages," the younger woman gushed, "I mean, Mrs. Fontaine, how silly of me. I always forget that you're married!"

Ella had to suppress a triumphant smile that she had won the most handsome young man in the County at an early age while this arrogant dish was two years her senior and had yet to have a single proposal.

"Ah, yes," Ella smiled, intentionally flashing her beautiful wedding ring so that the jealous Miss Elsing could see it. "Joe wasn't able to join me, so I am Wade's escort this evening. And this is our baby sister, Miss Melanie Wilkes."

If Hannah Elsing's eyes had narrowed at the sight of Ella's ring, they positively glared at poor Melly, who glowed with the youthful beauty Hannah herself lacked.

"My goodness, I had no idea that you were out in society! Wherever have they been hiding you?"

"My parents live on Amelia Island, in Florida," Melanie said shyly, "perhaps you've heard of it?"

Hannah shook her head, "I'm afraid that I haven't."

"It's becoming quite popular for tourists," Melanie attempted conversation. "There never seems to be a shortage of interesting people newly arrived to take the sea air…"

Hannah laughed dryly. "Well, I'm sure that most of _those _sort of people are Northerners…or Scalawags. Of course, it seems like even this party has attracted the most vile people."

Melly shrank back towards Ella, feeling that an insult directed at her lurked underneath Hannah's words.

"It must be dreadful for you to endure your former stepfather's presence…of course, I'm surprised that such a pariah as he would have been invited…" Hannah ran on, taking Ella's arm. "Of course, if her reputation wasn't so notorious, perhaps your mother wouldn't be both divorced and un-received."

"That my mother and stepfather choose to make their home outside Atlanta is their own business, and certainly not reflective of any shame on either of their parts. And as for Mr. Butler, I try to avoid him whenever possible!" Ella huffed, detaching herself from the other woman and steering Melly away. "Now then, Wade Hampton, I am most anxious to retire, and Melly is as well."

"Too late," Wade muttered, looking at the opposite side of the room. Ella followed his gaze, then groaned as she observed the man walking directly toward them. In all the years she had known him, she had never seen him looking like that-if looks could kill, someone in the room was doomed.

Melly noticed him too, and couldn't help but see that his gaze was fixed directly on her. While his expression was stony, it seemed that his eyes were lethal! She was frightened of this man, and she wanted to hide behind Wade, who was…waving him over?

The music stopped briefly, and Miss Elsing let out a disgusted sigh at Wade's disinterest and returned to her group of friends, leaving Melly, Ella, and Wade alone to receive the man. Melly didn't know any man besides her own Papa who was this tall, and Ella surely wouldn't have tensed up so around a relative. Up close, he was revealed to be at least sixty years old with a head full of black hair sprinkled with silver. A thin mustache accented his firm chin, and his black eyes had in them more than a trace of malice.

"Well, well, Ella and Wade," he said. His voice carried a slight accent that Melly could not place.

"Uncle Rhett," Wade extended his hand and the other man shook it, his eyes still fixed upon Melly, who shank underneath his gaze. "I don't believe you've ever met Melly. Melly, this is Rhett Butler, he's our-"

"An old friend," Butler interrupted. "Melly." He repeated the name, then turned to Ella, who seemed frazzled. "I'm sorry if my presence is repugnant to you, my dear Mrs. Fontaine. I was just about to depart, so there's no need for you to leave on my account."

Ella fixed him with her own cold stare. "We must be going anyway. I wonder, Captain Butler, why you have not brought your lovely friend Madame Celeste this evening?"

Butler smirked at Ella, his face still not betraying any feeling but polite bemusement.

"Unfortunately, Madame Celeste did not merit an invitation to this little soiree. It seems that the Old Guard is about as amenable to foreign actresses attending their functions as they are to divorcees doing the same."

Ella raised an eyebrow. "Yet divorced _men _are welcome? That hardly seems fair, does it?"

That got his eyes off of Melly for a moment and back to Ella.

"No, it hardly does." He then turned to Wade and bowed slightly. "I apologize for spoiling your evening, Mr. Hamilton. I do hope that your sister will forgive me one day, for all of my shortcomings. Miss Wilkes, you are very lovely. When I first noticed you talking to Miss Pittypat I thought that you were…" his voice trailed off and the sparkle disappeared from his eyes and Melly thought for a moment that he might cry. He cleared his throat loudly, and said, "your parents must be very proud of you indeed."

After he turned to leave, Melly whispered up to Ella. "Whoever was that strange man?"

"No one important," Ella silenced Wade with a hard stare and took Melly's arm, steering her toward the exit.

Melly turned around only once, and glanced at the wide back of Captain Butler, who had been detained by another gentleman. The way he had looked at her had been almost heartbreaking! Then again, she certainly didn't know him, and Ella clearly did not like him one bit. But Melly felt prompted by her own curiosity to try…

"Wait for me, Ella," she said hurriedly, "I left my shawl with Aunt Pitty."

Ella nodded in consent, still trying to pull Wade away from another of his lingering admirers.

Melly shuffled through the ballroom, feeling that she was probably committing a social faux pas by speaking to a man that was not a member of her family without her brother present alongside of her, but something within her compelled her to carry on. She turned to leave again, but then, appalled by her own boldness, she tapped the man's arm instead.

He turned around, that same forlorn look in his eyes. How could she ignore it?

"Are you all right?" Melly asked. "I apologize for disturbing you, sir, it's just that you looked quite ill when we spoke before."

The man shook his head, obviously taken aback by her abrupt question.

"No, no, not at all. I suppose that I was just caught off guard. You see, you look very like your mother, Miss Melanie."

"Melly," she corrected. "I don't like to be called Melanie. And thank you, for the complement. My mother is very beautiful."

"Miss Melly," he said, as though he was repeating something sacred. "Miss Melly Wilkes. I've longed so much for a sight of you, and I'm not at all disappointed."

"Really?" she asked, confused. "How do you know me, sir?"

He gave her a small smile.

"You should leave, Miss Melly. Your brother and sister will be waiting."

Now that she'd spoken to him, for whatever it was worth, she knew quite well that she needed to return to Ella, but she found herself somewhat reluctant to say goodbye. The poor man looked dreadful still, as though he had stared grim death in the face.

"Goodbye, Mr. Butler," she smiled. As she did so, he cast his eyes away and rubbed them mercilessly with the sleeve of his jacket.

"Until we meet again, Miss Melly," he murmured, although she had already began weaving her way through the crowd.


	5. Chapter 5

_Chapter 5: Secrets in Savannah_

_Dear Mother and Papa, _

_I hope that you are both in good health and spirits. Thank you so very much for the care package; the chocolate simply doesn't taste the same here in Savannah, and you must tell Miss Annie that I miss her Saint James custard terribly. _

_Papa, I do believe that you were right when you advised me to keep my opinions about things largely to myself when in the company of my peers. I've largely done so, although I made an error by attempting to explain the necessity of women's suffrage to one of my classmates. When Father James questioned me about it, I must admit that I went on and on about our fair city of Fernandina, where women hold property and own their own businesses. Well, you can imagine how that went over: Father proceeded to lecture us about the proper 'sphere' of young ladies. I believe that that very issue is the most difficult part of my new life here in Savannah. _

_I always make an attempt to speak to the ladies who clean our dormitories and Aunt Pauline's servants, when I am summoned to visit…and this is the strangest thing, Papa, they cast their eyes downward as though I am their mistress! Isn't that odd? And when I told Aunt Pauline that Mammy was the only colored person in our household and that she was family, not a servant, she muttered 'why, it isn't fitting, young Melanie'! I see no reason why the black folks can't hold elected office here, when they do it more than capably in Fernandina! Everyone works toward the common goal of improving the community, and here, the other young ladies merely argue about the quality of the beaux who come to call. _

_Fear not, I have not yet received any callers! I worry that I would not have anything interesting to say to one, if he came calling. That or he would cast judgment upon me for my awkward nature. But I am learning to be more forthright, Mother. In fact, only yesterday I made the acquaintance of the most delightful new friend in the library. He is closer to Wade's age than my own, but he is incredibly intelligent. Apparently, he is the adopted son of a wealthy businessman (something about him being a child of the wealthy man's friend, whom I suspect may be a loose woman, but I did not want to pry), but regardless, he is interesting! His occupation lies in the design and construction of buildings, and he boasts a degree from a university in New York! We conversed for hours about the new business building code. When I told him that we demanded all brick buildings in Fernandina for fire safety, he was most impressed. _

_I received a letter two days ago from Beau, and he, as I'm sure he's told you both already, is looking forward to the holidays (at home for once!)! I do long to see you both, and Mammy too, as well as our home and the beach! _

_I am, most affectionately your daughter, _

_Melly _

Melly hurriedly signed her letter to her parents, thinking that it was best if she didn't mention the event which called for her haste. Her great uncle, Mr. James O'Hara, was celebrating his one hundred and second birthday, and she would attend it whether it was suitable or not! Her O'Hara relatives, from Old Jamie down to his littlest great-grandchild, were a source of comfort which could not be obtained from any of her schoolmates nor her Aunt Pauline and other Robillard cousins. Besides, Melly reasoned, it was a Saturday afternoon; it was perfectly permissible for a lady to walk the half a block from the student house to the pub down the street.

"Wherever are you going this time of afternoon?" inquired Edelyn Carmichael.

"To mail my letter to the folks," Melly smiled at her blonde, empty-headed roommate.

"You write back home almost every day! I couldn't wait to get out of my parent's house. You know, Melly, you're welcome to come up to Augusta with me next weekend. My church is throwing a social…there'll be a surplus of eligible gentlemen!"

"That's very kind of you to invite me," Melly smiled politely, "but I'm afraid that I've made plans already. My brother Wade is coming to fetch me Friday night and we're going to Charleston for his friend Thomas Hampton's wedding."

"Oh!" Edelyn said with heightened interest. "I know the Hampton family name. Mr. Wade Hampton was the President or something, wasn't he?"

Melly fought the temptation to roll her eyes. Trust a good southern girl to know the name of a famous war hero but not have any idea as to his post-bellum career.

"Mr. Wade Hampton was the governor of South Carolina," Melly corrected gently.

"Right," Edelyn giggled. "Silly me! Oh Melly, your brother is the handsomest man in the entire world. I know he'd never pay a bit of attention to a poor simple thing like little ole me, but maybe if you put in a good word for me…"

"Edelyn!" Melly shook her head. "He's nearly thirty and you're not yet sixteen!"

"Who cares about age when you're such a good-looking man? He's just waiting on the right woman to tickle his fancy. Why not me?"

Melly sighed-didn't these girls ever think of anything else but marriage and beaux?

"I'll see what I can do," she promised, then took her leave from the room and headed out into the blinding sun of an unseasonably warm October day.

The pub was located directly adjacent to the O'Hara and Sons, Inc. general goods store. Always boasting a steady crowd of patrons, the revelers had come out in force to celebrate the special occasion. As usual, Melly walked through the back door and into the restaurant section, never through the front door, which led to the bar. Mr. James O'Hara, Jr., the current proprietor of the pub was spinning a tale to a rapt audience, while his wife, Maureen, and two elder sons were passing through the lines of tables, carrying trays laden with food and drink.

Without missing a beat, Maureen nodded in Melly's direction and pointed her to a corner table, out of the sight of any probing eyes, but in a good place to watch the action. Pleased with herself, Melly waved to her cousin Pauline, who ran over and took a seat next to her.

"Ah, Melly-girl!" Pauline said jovially. As pale as Melly was dark, and with a head full of shocking red hair, Pauline would never be called a beauty; but she had something of easy charm that rendered her instantly approachable and therefore, a highly sought after companion for the shyer members of the opposite sex, who enjoyed her good humor. To Melly, she might have been overwhelming, but instead, was gracious and welcoming. It had been Pauline who insisted that Melly come twice a week for supper, on Wednesdays and Sundays mostly, when the rest of the girls were at the prayer services of their various religious denominations. Although Saint Vincent's was a Catholic boarding school, it enjoyed a lofty reputation for solid academics-that and a tight leash for any wayward heiresses who had ambitions of marrying beneath their station.

"I'm so glad you could make it, Melly," Pauline said. "Tis a grand occasion, so it tis. And my da told me just this morning that there'll be a band here today the likes of which those of us born this side of the sea have never heard with our own ears. Fellow by the name of Sean McGinnis and his boys. Ma says that there's not a stronger, handsomer man in the whole of the fair Isle, and that's the truth of it!"

"Oh Pauline, not you as well! I'd be happy to go one day without hearing about handsome men. Why should we have to make complete fools of ourselves to catch one and then, once we've securely got them, defer to their will completely and lose ourselves in the bargain?"

"Melly-girl, that's the silliest thing I've heard in all me born days! Losin' yourself didn't sound so terrible last week, did it? I should say not! That fine, strapping boyle you met in the library had you gushin' for a week, 'tis the God's honest truth!"

"He did nothing of the sort. I was merely happy to have someone to converse with about a subject of mutual interest. That's all!"

"But he was handsome. You said it yourself, ma dear."

"Oh bother it all. I'm never telling you a thing again. I'm going to wait until I'm thirty to marry, and only then to a sensible man like Papa who would cares more about stimulating conversation than good looks."

"Tut-tut, Miss Melly. You're the prettiest girl in all of Savannah, if I do say so meself. There'll be a man to catch your eye, just wait and see."

"Not too soon, please," Melly bristled. "I just turned fourteen."

"Well, a body wouldn't know it," Pauline whispered conspiratorially. "You've a face and a figure that'd make all those upper crust belles pea-green with envy. That's not even mentioning how clever you are, Little Miss!"

Melly let out a deep sigh of contentment as the music began, and sat back in her seat in order to better allow the tunes of her grandfather's homeland lull her into a peaceful state of imagination. In her mind, she was just plain Melly, an Irish lass dancing in the green hills of the old country…

Not realizing that she had nodded off, Melly was stirred by Pauline, who slapped her on the shoulder. "He's here! Sean McGinnis himself, and his brother Willie, there with the drum and the tin whistle round his neck. And that over there is Mr. David MacGilmore, he's more than fair with the fiddle, so 'tis said."

Eagerly, Melly clapped along with the rest of the patrons as Sean McGinnis took the stage, announcing first that they were celebrating the auspicious occasion of Mr. James O'Hara's one hundred and second year. "Speech!" someone cried from the back, and the aged little man rose from his chair, a glass of whiskey clasped surprisingly firmly in his hand. "Well then. Here's the truth of it. When you're as old as dirt, like me, 'tis grateful you are to be living another day. Here's to ye." And with that, Jamie O'Hara downed his glass, and the rest of the men and some of the women did the same.

Sean's deep, melodious tenor voice filled the room with a stirring rendition of _The Fields of Athenry_, which brought tears to the eyes of all present, especially the guest of honor, who had been in his cups since dawn.

"He sings a cappella?" Melly whispered to Pauline, then clarified, "without the aid of instruments?"

"Oh he plays more'n fairly. Tis a gift from God, his voice. Like an angel."

Melly tore herself away from the music after Sean's solo was finished, and slipped into the kitchen to fetch herself a plate of soda bread and a glass of cold milk saved specially for her by Maureen.

She could still hear the music from the kitchen, which had gotten louder and called for dancing. Soon the pub would be filled with dancing couples and Melly would have to leave before it became too crowded. Indeed, she was looking for Maureen to say goodbye before she heard a voice at her elbow saying, "Beggin' your pardon, Miss, might I beg a glass o' water to wet me whistle?"

It was Sean's voice! Oh dear, Melly thought, he thinks that I'm a waitress!

"I can offer you milk," she sputtered out, feeling tongue-tied at the sight of the fair-haired, good-looking man before her. Quickly, she handed him her own glass.

"I'm thinking that 'tis one of the patrons you are, and not a waitress a'tall. But I'll take a drop o' that milk. And it's thankin' you I am."

"Oh, take it all," she said hurriedly. "I can get more. Maureen always puts a full jug out for me. It's already been chilled." She felt her hands start to sweat as she continued to talk, and willed herself to stop before she blundered beyond repair.

Luckily, he only smiled.

"Thank you. So, 'tis Maureen's…niece you are, I'm guessin'?"

"No. We're cousins. Well, by marriage. What I mean is, my grandfather and her father-in-law are brothers."

"Ah, so you're a kin to the old gentleman himself. One of the O'Hara women. My name," he extended a large hand, "is Sean McGinnis."

"Melly Wilkes," Melly stuck out her own hand and cursed herself for her clumsiness. Oh dear, he was probably laughing at her!

"Wilkes?" he stroked his chin thoughtfully. "'Tis not an Irish name, I'm thinking. So 'tis your mother who must be the O'Hara."

"Yes," Melly said, trying desperately to determine something interesting to say to him. She tried to remember her mother's advice to Ella when she had her first debut: always remember to talk to a man about himself, but only long enough to return the subject to the most important one, yourself.

"Your singing was lovely," Melly blurted out. "I'm sure that you hear it often enough, but it truly was a pleasure to hear such a fine tenor." Oh God, Melly thought with horror; why must I be so forthright at the most inopportune moments?

To her immense relief, he smiled genially, his blue eyes twinkling with pleasure at her words. "It never grows old hearing complements such as that. And from as lovely a lass as yourself to boot. Do you hail from Savannah then, Miss Melly?"

"No," Melly smiled, feeling more at ease. "I have people here, of course. The O'Hara cousins and a widowed great aunt. But I'm just here for the school term; I live on Amelia Island, that's in Florida."

"Amelia, you said?" he said with interest. "I've never traveled down that way. My band travels all down the coast, but never that far. What towns are close by that I might be knowin'?"

"Jacksonville is the biggest, but Fernandina is the closest. But you might have heard of Jekyll or Cumberland Islands, our neighbors. No?"

He shook his head. "Well, I've been to Jacksonville. But I figured all those little island soundin' places are too fancy for the likes of me."

"Not at all! Why, the entertainment in Fernandina is sorely lacking. The town has to hire a colored jazz band from Jacksonville for any social occasion, not that they aren't good, but you were incredible…" She did it again! Complementing him as if she were Edelyn or Pauline or another silly girl!

"Well, with a vote o' confidence like that, I'm sure 'tis a fine place. Perhaps I'll see it sometime. Meself, I get sick of the South. I like playin' the Northern cities better. You tend to see more home folks."

"Oh, were you born somewhere in the North?" Melly inquired politely.

"What? Oh, not a'tall, Miss Melly. No, 'tis fairly new crossed over I am. I'm from a little town called Newry. In County Down."

"Oh, in Ireland!" Melly cursed herself inwardly for her stupidity.

He laughed loudly, displaying the whitest set of teeth she had ever seen. "I came to America with a grand total of thirty dollars cash and a wee fiddle and me own voice. So, there I was, fresh over the sea crossing, fifteen years old, or thereabouts, and I walked into a bloke called Tommy Ryan's pub in Fulton, New York, and I ordered a pint while I asked for a job."

"Singing?"

"No, not yet. Just waitin' tables and the like. But anyway, it wasn't explained to me 'till afterward that orderin' a pint and askin' for work might not be the smartest thing I've ever done. But as it was, Ryan was good ole bloke and let me start up that day. Then he heard I was fair with the fiddle and I stepped in for another bloke that was sick and the rest, as they say, is history."

"That seems almost too lucky to be true," Melly said, in genuine awe of hardworking, industrious (not to mention talented and handsome) individuals.

"'Tis the truth of it, every word, so 'tis. So, Miss Melly, since I have stolen your wee glass of milk, might I make it up to you by asking you to dance before I have to sing again? 'Tis John Ryan's polka the next set; I can teach you the steps if you don't know them."

Melly blushed heavily. She wanted to dance; she did! But she couldn't risk being seen by someone who would know someone from school. It was bad enough for her to be at the pub at all, let alone to be un-chaperoned and dancing with a young man she barely knew.

"It's getting late in the afternoon, Mr. McGinnis, else I would be glad to dance with you. But I must return to Saint Vincent's soon, before the others send out a search party."

He whistled appreciatively. "Saint Vincent's, eh? So 'tis either very intelligent or very rich you are. Or both."

Taken aback, Melly huffed. "Not at all!"

"I apologize," he grinned, "mortified to have caused offense a'tall. 'Twas not my intention. I only repeat what I'm told. Besides, you're at least half an O'Hara; 'tis good strong Irish blood in you."

"Thank you, I think," Melly smiled up at him. "But really, I must be going. It was lovely to meet you, Mr. McGinnis."

"Sean. Please, do call me Sean. Well, I suppose it's goodbye then, Miss Melly. 'Twas a pleasure."

"Goodbye!" Melly nodded her head politely, and headed toward the back door. Maureen was already there, her face red.

"Oh thank Heaven! Melly-girl, wherever have you been? I've been searchin' the pub for you for the last good while. Pauline said you'd slipped off."

"I'm sorry Maureen," Melly began to explain.

"No time, darlin', Mr. Campbell from the telegraph office came by to pay his respects to Da, and luckily he saw you sittin' there with Pauline, 'cause he had this wire for you. It seems your parents are arriving tonight!"

"Mother and Papa? Here?"

"Yes, themselves! Hurry now, love. Get back to Saint Vince's. I know your Ma wouldn't object to you getting to know your kin, but I'll not be having her find you in such a party as 'tis about to become. See you Tuesday next, love. And tell darlin' Wade thank you for the bolt of cloth and the cigars for Da's birthday. That was mighty nice of him."

"I will!" Melly said, a thrill at seeing her parents rushing over her, "I'll tell him!"

Hurriedly she ran the half block and entered through her dormitory's back entrance. Luckily, Edelyn had already gone down to the dining salon with the rest of the young ladies and wouldn't see her tiptoeing in, all sweaty and smoky-smelling from the pub.

She quickly discarded her afternoon dress and changed into a white midday blouse and a tan ankle length skirt and pinned her hair back. There wouldn't be enough time to wash it and brush it out, and besides, her mother had said that she was old enough to wear it up after three o'clock in the afternoon.

Her parents were waiting for her in the downstairs parlor, deep in conversation with Madame de Rothschild, Melly's instructor in French and language arts.

"Zere is none to match Miz Melly's gifts. Ze good sisters are filled with praise for her work, and I know zat if she had ze desire, she could compete or even surpass ze male pupils at ze universities here in America. But Monsieur Wilkes, I agree with you zat Europe would be ze best place."

"Fiddle-dee-dee!"

Melly giggled as she heard her mother's voice overshadow her father's words of agreement.

"It's bad enough that she's got to stay here for two years, let alone Europe! What is there in Europe that she can't see here?"

"Oh, zere is plenty, Madame. If I might suggest, ze Ladies' Academy of Saint Cyr. Miz Melly speaks French like a native, Monsieur; sometimes I think zat her pronunciation rivals my own. Might I deduce zat she learned it from her father?"

"Indeed. I wanted her to see the beauty of the written words at an early age, to gain an appreciation for…"

"Oh Ashley, do stop rambling. Where is Melly, Madame?"

Melly stifled her laughter over her mother's pronunciation of Madame, then tiptoed into the room, meeting her father's eyes as she appeared suddenly behind her mother, startling her.

"Great balls of fire, Melanie Wilkes! Whatever kept you?" Scarlett teasingly clicked her tongue against her teeth as she embraced Melly then reached out to straighten a rogue pin in her hair.

"I went for a walk," Melly smiled broadly as she took in the wonderful smells of lavender and vanilla which she always associated with her mother. The walking part was true; and they didn't need to know she'd been flirting with a young man not at all in her class at the pub!

Her papa walked over to her and kissed her cheek. He looked much older than he had when she had said goodbye to them only two months before. His fair hair had gone completely silver, and his normally suntanned face was ashy grey. But his eyes were alight with a smile when he saw her, and he looked more like himself.

"Please," Madame de Rothschild cleared her throat, "use ze parlor as long as you'd like. And if ze Mademoiselle desires to spend ze weekend with you at your hotel, I am certain zat ze Headmistress will not object."

"Thank you," Scarlett answered, summarily dismissive in her tone as the other woman left, closing the door behind her.

"What a surprise!" Melly exclaimed. "I mailed you a letter just today. You should have sent word that you were coming."

"We just thought that we'd treat ourselves to a visit to town. We'll stay through tomorrow and call on Aunt Pauline, of course. Then we're on to Charleston; your Papa has a business meeting and I've been longing to go to Market there. Miss Spencer has the most supreme selection of silks…"

Melly's eyes watched her father shrewdly, and noted his obvious discomfort. She knew that he had never worked. He had owned a lumber mill in Atlanta but had sold it before she was born. His business these days was writing poetry and composing lovely concertos on the pianoforte.

"What sort of business meeting do you have, Papa?"

He drew in his breath deeply, then coughed loudly, pulling out a handkerchief and wiping his white lips.

"She is old enough to know the truth, Scarlett," he said, taking a seat in the parlor and motioning for Melly to take the chair opposite him. "No more secrets, my girl."

"Oh Ashley, no!" cried Scarlett impatiently. "Let's go to dinner. Don't spoil the evening with this!"

"She has a right to know, Scarlett," Ashley said testily, shooting Melly's mother a sharp look that she had never seen him bestow upon her mother before.

Panic filled her as thoughts raced through her mind about what might be so important. Surely they weren't fighting! No, they never so much as quarreled. Perhaps someone was ill! No, Wade and Beau were both safe in Charleston, and she had just gotten a letter from Ella the day before. But Mammy? They hadn't mentioned the old dear…"

"Where's Mammy?" she burst out, eyes widened.

"Oh, Mammy's fine, baby," Scarlett soothed. "She's just too old and feeble to make the trip, but don't worry, I've asked Mrs. Surher to look in on her while we're away."

Melly sighed with relief, then looked again at her Papa, still so pale against the black velvet upholstery of the chair.

"What's wrong, Papa?"

"I have been sick, sweet girl," he spoke slowly, choosing his words carefully, "oh, don't fret, I'm all right for now. But Beau wired last week to inform us that a specialist from Italy is visiting the medical college there, and he's convinced him to examine me. The gentleman has invented an operation which can perhaps make me well again."

"Oh Papa!" Melly cried in horror. "What sort of operation?"

"That's quite enough," Scarlett said firmly. "Now that you've spoiled our evening. But don't worry, Melly, if this doctor is a quack, we wouldn't dream of allowing him to touch your Papa. We're just going to meet with him, that's all."

"Come here," Ashley ordered Melly into his open arms, and she sank into them, clinging to him like a lifeline. "You mustn't cry, my girl. I'll be alright, I promise. Why, your brother Beau is a fine doctor, and then the Italian gentleman is supposed to be the best in the world; I'll be in fine hands."

"And if they can't mend you, Papa?" she looked up at him with eyes pleading for reassurance.

"Then we'll be back to Amelia Island and home," he patted her cheek softly with his large, thin hand.

"Go up to your room and get changed for dinner, baby," Scarlett said, taking Melly's arm and pulling her away from Ashley. "Let's do try not to be sad. We can't help your Papa at all by being sad."

"Yes, Mother," Melly sighed, both charmed and soothed by her mother's clipped voice even more than by any of her father's sugar-coated reassurances. Slowly, she climbed the steps up to her room, her feet and her heart feeling like lead, and the handsome boy from the pub long forgotten…

_**NB: A gigantic thank-you goes out to all of you for the reviews. I have to say, it makes it such a pleasure to write when you know that someone out there is reading and enjoying your story. That being said, I've taken liberties with the O'Hara's owning a pub rather than the store alone; I read __Scarlett__ many moons ago and hated it and haven't picked it up since. I think that I vaguely remember a Maureen and a James in that work, but mine probably have little resemblance to the characters of Ripley's invention. _

_I think that most of you will be pleased with the next chapter, where we see Melly and her family in Charleston…I'm sure that you can guess who else will be in attendance! _


	6. Chapter 6

_Chapter 6: Reacquainting_

It was a crisp, bright morning when the Wilkes family arrived in Charleston, and Melly's heart was merry with the joy of being reunited with her parents _and_ visiting a new city. If only the cloud of her Papa's illness wasn't lingering over her happiness…But it was a beautiful afternoon, and she _was _happy, so eagerly she relayed the tales of her lessons and her girl friends, and was unwittingly singing the praises of the young gentleman from the library for the second time (or was it third or fourth?) since they had disembarked from the train.

"Well, I've never come across a boy besides Beau and Wade that's so easy to talk to. He was kind and serious, and _interested_ in what I had to say. He's brave, he went to New York for school and paid for it himself. And he's adventurous! And very intelligent, Papa."

"So you've mentioned, well, all day!" Ashley laughed and smiled broadly as Melly flushed with embarrassment.

"Oh fiddle-dee-dee, Melly! I won't have my child being silly about strange men you don't know a thing about!"

"Ah, speaks your mother from experience."

"That's a lie, Ashley Wilkes! I was never silly about strangers."

He looked rather devilish and said, "oh no, never _strangers_, my dear."

He winked at Melly then, and looked more well at that moment than he had the entire trip. Melly sighed as she looked upon his dear face. She neither felt fever in his hands nor saw it in his eyes, and he was still her Papa and she loved him better than life. How could he be sick? True, he seemed tired, and he had a lingering cough. But his eyes were clear and shining with love for her, and all was right in the world. Melly laughed aloud.

"Oh Mother, I bet you were something!"

She rolled her eyes. "Well, I'm old and decrepit now. I wouldn't dare show my face in the County, looking a hundred years old."

Ashley roared with appreciative laughter at that. "I meant it when I told you that you'd remain unchanged at sixty, my dear. It's true. Isn't it so, Melly?"

Teasingly, Melly pretended to ponder the matter and said cheekily, "well, she's not sixty yet…"

"You wicked girl!" Scarlett cried, but she had to smile. "Just for that I'm going to make you wear black to that wedding and your hair down! How do you like that, Little Miss Fine Airs?"

"Well, that's no punishment, my dear. Her young gentleman presumably will not be attending this afternoon's festivities."

At that, they all laughed, basking in the warmth of the day and of one another's company, as though each shared memory had attained an infinitely more precious value.

Melly dressed with more care than usual for the wedding and the following ball; with her mother's assistance, she had managed a high, sweeping up-do for her hair, which felt precarious with so few pins holding the silken glory in place. But it was done and she felt like a veritable fairy queen in a gorgeous princess-shaped satin gown with bits of gold woven through it.

"You are so extraordinarily beautiful, my dear," her Papa had said, "you do take my breath away…"

The wedding was at three o'clock, with the reception immediately following, so there was no time for Melly to so much as say hello to Beau, or to meet the doctor that would assuredly make her father well again; but it was a glorious day, she kept telling herself, and besides, she would only be in the way. It was a wedding straight out of _Harper's Weekly_, with all the trimmings and niceties befitting such an auspicious occasion as the marriage of a war hero's son and the governor's daughter.

Of course, Melly thought with pride, Wade outshines even the groom. His Prince Albert frockcoat was black, offset by grey trousers and a red cravat. He was dashing, indeed!

"But why aren't you wearing your gloves, Wade?" Melly asked with horror.

"Because, gloves for gentlemen are three years out of fashion, dear sister."

"You are impossible!" Melly smirked, feeling rather awed by the gorgeous affair, and quite pleased to be on the arm of the handsomest man in the room.

After the ceremony, the guests loaded into coaches and adjourned to Middleton Place, the gorgeous plantation home of the bride's family, where they were greeted by the largest assortment of cakes and other delicacies Melly had ever seen.

"Champagne, my dear?" Wade offered.

"I couldn't!" Melly whispered.

"Yes you can; you're of age now. Let's look around and see if there's anyone we must greet. Then we can step outside and eat our cake in private. I know Mother told you not to eat in front of people, but I'll be damned if you can't enjoy cake at a wedding."

"Oh Wade," Melly giggled, feeling a little giddy from the champagne. "You're so silly, but you do think of everything, don't you? No wonder all the girls are sweet on you."

"I learned from the best," he winked at her, then his eyes caught those of a stately looking blonde. "Now she, little Melly, is worth an introduction."

"She's probably engaged," Melly teased, "or worse, married!"

"There is nothing money can't buy, sister dear," Wade grinned, "including a divorce…Ah! There's someone over there who can attest to that. Come, Melly. Let's join them."

Melly smiled as she recognized that it was Mr. Butler to whom Wade was referring. He had been at the ball in Atlanta…but what was he doing here, in Charleston?

"Rhett!" Wade called, shaking the man's hand politely. "Melly, say hello."

It made sense to Melly that Wade led the way to the older man's table, after all, they were clearly well acquainted and she had met him once before, and wouldn't need to be introduced. What did not make sense was the way that Mr. Butler turned to the young man to his right, who had risen to acknowledge Melly's arrival and said with a wry smile, "And this is my business associate, Pierce Mason Kershaw."

"Mason, isn't it?" Wade extended his hand. "Studying architecture in Paris, weren't you? This fair creature is my little sister-"

"I do believe that I have met you before, Miss Melly," Mason smiled. "In fact, you the first young lady I have ever met who has exhibited such a thorough interest in and understanding of proper building codes."

Melly stared at him, unaware that her jaw had dropped. Her mystery man from the library was an aristocrat? And someone her brother knew? He'd been to Paris, he wasn't at all working class…and he worked for Mr. Butler? How could she ever have made such a mistake?

"Well, apparently he's signed papers to make his adopted son his legal heir…" Melly vaguely remembered coming downstairs one morning of her sister's last visit to Amelia and hearing Ella reporting to their mother over breakfast . "…and you know, he's a dreadful young man. Why, someone was telling me just the other day that he was reared among prostitutes and gamblers in New Orleans, but that no expense was spared in his education. The best schools, Paris, New York. But it's no wonder that he's a wild thing with an upbringing like that. I'm sure he won't be received, Mother, even if he is his adopted son."

"His _bastard _son is probably a more accurate term," her mother had replied. "Well I don't care a fig about any of his money anyway. I have more than enough of it and so does Wade and so do you. I hope he takes Pierce _Kershaw _and his millions and rots in Halifax for all eternity."

"Scarlett!" her Papa had chided from his seat at the table. "Let's not be uncharitable. Good morning, Melly dear…"

Melly had noticed how the conversation had quickly turned to pleasanter topics, but how her mother's face was still contorted into a frown and Ella's lips were pursed with unspoken disapproval.

There was more to Mr. Rhett Butler and Mr. Mason Kershaw than anyone was willing to say to her; they were connected to her family in some way and no one had thought it important enough to tell her. Wade had some explaining to do after this debacle was over!

Melly flushed with embarrassment as she realized that both men were looking at her expectantly. She had to say something-anything-before she made a complete fool of herself. Oh dear, how she had rattled on and on to him at their last meeting. Of course he had been laughing at her on the inside, thinking what a poor silly little fool she was; he must have taken pity on her.

She remained miserably mute while Wade continued to chatter about Paris and art and cotton prices, barely nodding her head in agreement. She looked away from Mason Kershaw, fixing an aloof stare at the ornate ceiling above her head. Oh for Heaven's sake, won't he stop smiling, she thought with agony.

"I'm sure that your parents will be glad to have you home for the holidays," Mr. Butler addressed Melly. "I can imagine that they've been beside themselves with worry, with you off in Savannah by yourself."

Something about his tone set Melly's teeth on edge, as though he were putting on an elaborate display of politeness for her benefit alone. She wondered if Wade noticed…probably not! Wade was the sort of individual that could thrive in any situation, that and he seemed to genuinely like Rhett Butler. Too much, in Melly's opinion, more so than a normal business acquaintance.

Her voice lacking its usual warmth, Melly replied, "I suspect that they have been, but since they've spent ample time with me on the trip here, I'm sure that their fears have been put to rest."

Oh how his face whitened!

Quickly he formed a smile, and said, "I had no idea that they were in Charleston."

Wade smiled jovially, his expression bland. "They're staying at the Francis Marion. If I'm not mistaken, they're here just for the weekend, right, Melly?"

Melly looked at him with confusion. He knew that they were staying at Beau's house, and he knew why they were there! They could be there for weeks or even months, not just the weekend!

Timidly, she shook her head in agreement. Surely Wade knew what he was doing…

"Ah," the tension seemed to leave Mr. Butler's shoulders at that reassurance. But why?

The ballroom was instantly filled with more people as the bridal party entered. The lamps had been lit for the evening, and the effect was a warm, soft glow around the room, with it rendering even the plainest girl a dazzling belle. Melly felt within her a sweeping sense of loneliness and even a trace of envy as she watched the couples depart to the dance floor, basking in one another's company. She'd been concentrating so hard on her studies, she had neither the time nor the desire for beaux, and yet, a tiny piece of her wished that she could have been escorted by someone other than her brother.

Suddenly, Mason Kershaw appeared at her side. "I was going to ask Wade for permission, but I've lost sight of him and I simply can't wait any longer. If I might…have this dance, Miss Melly?"

"Umm," Melly looked up at him in horror. Surely this was a cruel joke! He couldn't be asking her to dance. True, Edelyn and some of the other girls had enforced dancing lessons upon her, and even complemented her lightness of foot; but no! This was too public, too formal! And he was too good-looking…what was that 'nice' rejection Edelyn had cackled about after delivering it to some gentleman?

"I would be glad to dance with you, Mr. Kershaw, but my shoes pinch my little toes unforgivably and I am more comfortable sitting," Melly said. There, not too harsh, and not altogether untrue. Now, why wouldn't he go away?

"Well, might I sit with you then?"

She nodded wordlessly as he seated himself next to her and looked around frantically for Wade.

"Have I offended you in some way, Miss Melly?"

"No," she stammered, "not at all. I was merely-"

"Surprised to see me?" he finished for her.

"Yes. Well, and that you are not a student of architecture at all, but a man of _business_!"

He laughed richly, "you spit it out so eloquently, Miss Melly. And your delivery is brilliant. Perhaps you should try for the stage! No? Well, let me address your concerns. I did not lie to you about my credentials, I do hold a degree from Columbia, which I did pay for myself. I am orphaned, as of last year, as I also told you. My mother was never in a position to care for me and my father was an important man, a politician. But it doesn't matter who he was; he was never aware of my existence. But Rhett was my guardian angel of sorts, and always looked out for my interests due to his long friendship with my mother. He knew of my interest in architecture, and has commissioned me to design a series of buildings all down the Coast. He's got all this property and more money than God and Lord knows, I need the work. So you see, I can still fit into your vision of philanthropic ideals."

"You're laughing at me!" Melly said sharply.

"Never," he said seriously. "I find you vastly more intelligent than most women of my own age; however, you are very naïve, but that is easily forgivable, since I presume you were reared on a rather sheltered set of ideals."

"I'll thank you not to presume things about my upbringing," Melly snapped. "You certainly know nothing about me!"

"Miss Melly, you told me everything about yourself. And I was charmed! Really, I loved hearing your views on social justice and racial equality and women's suffrage. But my dear, how do you ever think they'll come to pass if you can talk about them to plain Mason the student but not to Pierce M. Kershaw the businessman?"

"Because, I…" she trailed off as she failed to think of a satisfactory retort. "Because you should have disclosed your identity. I would have never spoken about such things to a gentleman!"

"Ha! Well you can rest easy then, Miss Melly. I can assure you that I'm not a gentleman in any sense of the word. And I apologize if I mislead you in any way. But I did enjoy hearing what you had to say. Now that we've got all this unpleasantness behind us, may we be friends again? What do you think?"

"I think that you're rude and conceited, that's what I think," Melly said crossly. "And I'd thank you to leave me alone."

Again he laughed that musical laugh, something that she found incredibly attractive, despite everything.

"So is it money that makes me so unappealing, Miss Melly? Or does my face give offense?"

"Don't be absurd. I could care less how much money you've got or what you do, it's just that…oh I wish you'd go away."

"Very well, Miss Melly. If you change your mind about the dance, I'll be sitting with Rhett."

Annoyed by his assumption that she would change her mind, Melly snapped, "I certainly won't change my mind! Good evening, Mr. Kershaw."

He bowed deeply, his eyes laughing along with his mouth. "And good evening to you, Miss Wilkes."

When Pierce Mason Kershaw returned to Rhett Butler's table, he found the older man sitting alone, staring at his untouched glass of champagne.

"Well sir, will we play poker again tonight? I'd like to take another crack at relieving you from some funds. Lighten the load in your wallet again, what do you say?"

"Wipe that smile off your face," Rhett growled. "And what the hell are you about, talking to Scarlett's daughter?"

"Scarlett's…" Mason's voice trailed off as he realized the significance of Rhett's acquaintance with the girl, "Rhett I had no idea! She never said a thing…"

"Why would she?"

"Well, you and Wade have always been on great terms. I assumed that she would have at least heard of you from him, if not Scarlett."

"I realize that this means nothing to you, but our Miss Melly is a daughter of Ashley Wilkes for all that she takes after Scarlett in looks."

Mason observed the older man, a puzzled look on his face. "You're right, it doesn't."

"I've observed her on two different occasions now. She's an absolute little parrot. She believes everything that her brother and sister tell her to believe, and she follows them like a little mouse hoping for a breadcrumb. She may be able to speak fluently, but she has little other use in the world besides being decorative, and she'll remain that way unless there's some interesting, energetic person behind her, guiding and protecting her for as long as she lives. If you feel the need to waste your time on such a person, then by all means, ask her to dance."

"I did," Mason laughed. "She just gave me a flat no."

Rhett observed him quietly. "Well, perhaps there is some hope for her after all."

"I sense an insult in that statement somewhere," Mason smirked.

"There's not," Rhett shrugged his shoulders. He rose suddenly and picked up his hat. "If you see Wade Hampton again before the night is over, do give him my best, won't you?"

"Sure," Mason said silkily. "So, you're leaving?"

"Yes. I'll leave you to Scarlett O'Hara's daughter. May you have better luck than I did. Of course, the Wilkes half in her could prove a blessing or a curse. Either way, it's powerful human soup." Rhett stopped short, an odd look on his face. "You know what the funny thing is? When I look at her, I can't help but imagine that she could have been mine…"

He then turned to go, and walked out of the ballroom laughing.


	7. Chapter 7

_Chapter 7- Regarding Tomorrow_

_Little Ella Kennedy hung fearfully onto her Uncle Ashley's hand in the doorway of her mother's darkened bedroom. The tears ran uncontrollably down her chubby cheeks as Beau screamed and hollered from the hallway that Aunt Scarlett and the baby were going to Heaven with his Mama to be angels and that he was glad. _

"_I'm glad I broke his nose!" Ella sniffed. "How could he say that, Uncle Ashley? I wish I'd done worse."_

"_He was frightened, Ella, and he only said those things because he had to say goodbye to his mother not but two years ago."_

"_Well, even so!" the eight-year-old drew herself up proudly. "He shouldn't have said such things about Mother and the baby. Mother's not going to go to Heaven! Not today, anyway!"_

"_You're right, Ella. You're right. But that does not excuse your actions. You must apologize to Beau and you must mean it. Ella, dear, listen closely to me. There are five things in life that cannot be recovered: A stone, after it's thrown. A word, after it is said. An occasion, after it's missed. The time, after it's gone. And a person, after they die…" _

Scarlett stood in the downstairs study of Beau's townhouse on the Battery, her gaze fixed upon on the eerie stillness of the harbor. She was absolutely numb and utterly still herself. And Ashley-the light accented the hollowness of his cheeks as he sat in the rocking chair adjacent to the fireplace. The chair's creaking seemed to keep perfect rhythm with Scarlett's own muffled sobs. Beau was gone, presumably to drink away the horrible day they had all endured. Scarlett wanted desperately to drink as well, but she had to remain there, standing fast and resolute, if only for Ashley.

But whatever had she expected would come out of it? Doctor Meade had given no hope, no chance of recovery. By moving to sunny Florida, they were only delaying the inevitable. But they _had _delayed it! Damn you, Beau, Scarlett cursed inwardly, if only you hadn't been so hopeful, so confident in your science and your medicine! We would never have come all this way if you hadn't been _sure _that this doctor would be able to cure him.

The doctor had been thorough in his examination, which had lasted over three hours. And Ashley had put up with it, even feeling as tired as he was, thinking that it would all be worth it to live. He'd put on a good face for Melly, and had been his usual carefree, teasing self, but when he hadn't known that she was watching, she sensed his worry…dread, even. Then he had gone into the Italian doctor's examination room and her own worry had taken precedence.

She had known what the doctor's opinion had been by Beau's expressionless face when he asked her to join them in his office. There was no hope, there would be no cure. But she had not expected six months. She remembered well the night Melanie died. She recalled thinking that of course doctors make mistakes, and that it couldn't be true, and of course Melly couldn't really be dying! But Beau, with his irrefutable belief in modern medicine, had stonily informed her that there were no medical means by which to save his father.

Ashley was going to die, and in less than six months.

But he looks alright, she thought in desperation, if only he wasn't so tired all the time…She had seen death though, so many times! The pinched face, the yellowy skin-he wasn't dying! He couldn't be! Melly needs him here, Scarlett thought. I need him! Looking at him now, though, she couldn't miss the change in demeanor, the profound melancholy that surrounded him. She suspected that he was thinking about Melanie again; whenever he thought upon his own mortality, thoughts of his first wife returned tenfold. How could he not?

"Scarlett, please say something," he said, a pleading quality in his voice. "I need you to say something."

What did he expect her to say? She attempted to plaster a half smile on her face as she addressed him, but the voice that came from her mouth was faint and flat.

"Yes, Ashley?"

"Talk to me, Scarlett. Talk about anything. The weather, anything."

"I wonder if Melly's having fun at the reception?" Scarlett wondered aloud, remembering suddenly the earlier part of the afternoon. She had looked so pretty, and they had all laughed together and sent her off with Wade like a little princess…

"I'm certain of it," he smiled and the tension built up in his jaw seemed to slacken. "She's so pretty, Scarlett. It's so good for her to go to these things, to be shown off like a lady."

"It's almost like the old days, isn't it?"

"Not quite that. She'll never know what it was like in the old days. She'll never know the simple pleasures of the barbeques and the parties and the ball gowns…"

"Oh, the gowns!" Scarlett mused aloud. "I couldn't decide what to wear that day to that last barbeque at Twelve Oaks. I wanted only to impress you, and I wore an afternoon dress. Mammy fussed at me for showing my arms and shoulders!"

"But they were lovely arms and shoulders."

She sighed, "I wish that we just could stop time, Ashley."

"Where would you have stopped it, Scarlett?"

"Last March, I think. When Ella came to visit and I watched her and Melly running in the sand with no shoes. You were playing the piano upstairs and I was sitting on the porch with my hair loose. The wind was blowing through it so delightfully and I thought myself quite content for once in my life. Even though it all could have been different, it was what it was, and I was content."

"I know, Scarlett. I know exactly how you feel. Melly was still a little girl then. She knew only what we wished her to know, and she worshipped us in all things. And we got to keep her young longer than most parents get to keep their children, don't you think?"

"I still have a hard time looking at her and seeing anything but a child."

"But she will grow up! She already has, in many ways. And she will continue to learn all sorts of new and exciting things and then, one day, she will get to vote and hold property and all the dreams that I've dreamt on her behalf will come true for her."

"None of your dreams for her seem to include her finding a husband."

"Well, I suppose that I am guilty of wanting to keep her a little girl in my head forever."

"That's understandable."

"I was not a good father to Beau, Scarlett. Oh, I gave him love and attention enough, but Melanie did all the work. And when she left, I could hardly bear to look at him, because whenever I did, I saw only her looking back at me, disappointed."

"Oh Ashley, you mustn't be so hard on yourself. Look how well he did for himself. And he went to Harvard and Europe just like Melly wanted, and then medical school to boot. You can be proud of him, Ashley."

"I am proud of him, so very proud. But I must say, I am somewhat prouder of Melly."

"That's because you've poured all of yourself into her."

"You're absolutely right, Scarlett. I was away at war until Beau was a toddler, I never was able to watch him grow. The bond between us was never as strong as it is between me and Melly. She utterly changed my life, Scarlett. You can't imagine how fiercely protective I am of her, or how much I love her. She's extraordinary, is Melly. A perfect fusion of…"

She turned back around so that he wouldn't see her wince over that. At Scarlett's downcast eyes, he paused. "I didn't mean to bring him up. Especially here in Charleston."

Scarlett shrugged. "Charleston has little significance to me. I never came here as his wife. I was just some desperate creature begging for a kind word from him. I lost all pride in myself after he left, Ashley. You didn't see it, those first two months. I showed up at his mother's doorstep pleading to see him. And he wouldn't even look at me. Of course, he left the next day and I had to remain to keep up appearances."

"I remember. You were changed when you returned."

"I was. I was determined not to let him lick me, and to be the mother that Wade and Ella needed me to be, so I put every last shred of energy into them."

"And to me," he added. "I doubt very much that I would have seen to it that Beau had school clothes or even that we had food on the table if you hadn't been over every night to look in on us."

"Remember that fit India pitched after I stayed past supper one night?"

"Like it was yesterday. At the top of her lungs, screaming at you in the street..."

"You know, after that black eye I gave her, she didn't have too much more to say about the subject."

"Indeed she did not." He chuckled aloud at the memory of his sister's outraged face adorned with the most splendid black eye. "I was ever so glad when she moved in with Honey and her husband."

They stared at each other from across the room. Ashley stood up and walked over to Scarlett, taking her hands in his.

"I wonder what would have become of us without Melly?"

"Well, I guess we can thank Rhett for that at least!"

"Him, I shall never understood. How could he have followed you to Tara and…" he grimaced as he said, "_taken _you, and then left?"

"He was afraid," she said sadly. "I had been mean to him too many times before. Time and time again I hurt him, and he was too proud to show it. And then I was angry with him for not showing it. I was hateful, Ashley, hateful. And he…well…he got very drunk very quickly and one thing led to another and then the next morning, he was gone…and you know the rest, Ashley."

"I do," he replied, then said softly, "and I'm so sorry to have made you sad, my dear, but I must speak to you about something that has been weighing heavily on my conscience." She said nothing, so he continued. "I wonder if we could come to an understanding of sorts with Rhett."

"Whatever do you mean?" she bristled.

"Hear me out, Scarlett. Everyone changes, and fourteen years is long enough for anyone to change, even Rhett Butler."

"What are you saying, Ashley?"

"I wonder if we should allow him to meet Melly. To spend some time with her, just once or twice, before…well, just so that…I don't know, Scarlett. Melly is such a bright, caring girl. She would win him over instantly. And if you're afraid of him taking her away from you like you once were, well, she's far too old for that to happen!"

"And what will you tell her, Ashley?" Scarlett shrilled. "She can't have _two_ fathers!"

"She won't," he said in a dull voice. "Not in six months."

Scarlett wanted nothing more than to be brave and strong, to impress him with her fortitude, but the sheer, raw terror of facing the world without him set her spinning around to throw herself into his arms and whisper intently, "Oh Ashley, I'm frightened! I'm so frightened!"

He held her close for several minutes, his chin resting on the top of her head. He didn't tell her that she was being silly, nor did he move to reassure her. He whispered, "I'm afraid, too, Scarlett."

Scarlett stared at him, a frown forming on her face. She noticed that he was shivering, and she wondered if he felt the chill in the room more keenly than she did.

"Should we call for someone to light the fire?"

He shook his head. "No. Beau's a young man. He doesn't feel the cold and there's no sense in making his house hot on my count. I've become enough of a burden as it is…"

"Oh Ashley," Scarlett observed him. Always tall and slender as a reed, he seemed suddenly very frail and small. He didn't reply immediately and she glanced up into the steady grey eyes. She wrapped her arms around his neck. "Ashley, I'm sorry I shouted at you. But I don't want to think about…oh, Ashley, I would have been lost without you."

He returned her hug and replied, "and I without you, my dear. I would have still been fumbling through life, staring out to sea like one waiting in vain for their lost beloved, waiting for a ship that will never return home. In that dark time after Melanie's death, I never thought again to be happy. And when I think about leaving you and Melly, I…"

His voice trailed off again and he crushed her in his embrace, so filled was he with emotion.

"You'll never have to," Scarlett choked out, "it's alright, darling, you'll never have to."

"I'm afraid, Scarlett. I'm afraid of dying just as I was once afraid of living."

"Shh…" she said soothingly, running her white, slender fingers through his hair. He was a child again, his head bent down against her hair, sobbing into it…

Rhett Butler pulled his hat down low on his head as he walked down the narrow tree-lined East Battery Street. It wasn't that he was worried that he would be recognized. On the Battery? Not a chance. Not that he couldn't name off the owners of the town homes by heart: the Edmondson's, the Alton's… All the old fine families had at least one property on the street, yes, here on the Battery, the old times still lingered. But why take the chance that one of the houses might be the one in which _they _were staying? But they're at the hotel, he reassured himself; at the Francis Marion, Wade Hampton said. Besides, it was highly unlikely that they would recognize him after all these years. Although he had attempted to shed some of those unneeded inches around his midsection, he was still heavier than he would have liked, aside from the obvious fact that he was _old_! He paused at the intersection of East Bay Street and the wharves and looked out upon the Cooper River. He knew the area like the back of his hand, and he had profited handsomely from it during his blockade running days.

"Glister over gold," he muttered under his breath, remembering something he had said long ago, "Well, I made my own bed."

Oh wretched days, he mused. The days seemed to drag on and on, and time passed as if he were moving through life at half-speed. _Tomorrow is another day_! He hated that little mantra of hers with every fiber of his being. How dare there be a tomorrow, when all that tomorrow brought was a painful repeat of today? He craved another adventure-a sail, a shooting match, a brawl-anything to take his mind off of things. He was sixty years old and the picture of health. He had long assumed that if he wasn't killed in some exciting fashion, the heavy smoking and drinking of his youth would end his misery quick enough. And yet, he was largely unchanged, like a man frozen in time. He had left that house of horrors almost sixteen years ago to the day, yet he was still unhealed. The pain of it all was as fresh as if it had happened yesterday. And seeing that girl did little to help him forget. That girl that _should_ have been his! Bonnie would have been...his...

_Tomorrow is another day_! To hell with tomorrow!

He was standing outside Number 5 East Battery Street, now. It had been the home of Dr. St. Julian Ravenel, the famous physician and inventor, but now was student housing for the Medical College of Charleston. The curtains had not been drawn for the evening and the lamplight illuminated the downstairs study. A young couple was embracing. No-it was an old man rather than a boy, and a handsome woman of middle-age, her long, black hair cascading in waves down to her waist. They were a married couple; had to be. Probably parents of one of the medical students in for a visit…

Rhett watched with amusement as they began to-dance? They were waltzing, as though an invisible orchestra was performing a concerto in their honor. The beauty of the moment tore at Rhett's heart, and he felt as though he was witnessing something private, indecent… The woman seemed to stop suddenly, as though she had just noticed the open window, and she broke apart from the gentleman and moved to close the curtains. She paused for a moment, then flinched, as if she had caught a glimpse of something unpleasant. Then she shook her head and pulled the curtains shut.

Rhett winced unconsciously, as if in pain, and continued to walk aimlessly down the street toward his mother's house.

_**NB: How can I thank those of you who have reviewed enough? I can't say enough how much of a pleasure it is knowing that your work is being read and liked! This chapter was not part of the original outline for this story, but I wanted to at least begin to tease out the back-story of "how Melly came to be". The full account will come out, but a little later. (It will be it's own chapter, and it will call for a higher rating!) __I sincerely hope that you enjoy it! - The Scarlett Starlet_

_(I also need to dedicate this chapter to the great Allison Krauss and the great Robert Plant, whose beautiful song __Please Read the Letter__ is the soundtrack behind and the inspiration for this chapter. If Scarlett and Ashley had a radio, this song would be playing loudly enough for Rhett to hear it from outside the window as they are dancing to it.)_


	8. Chapter 8

_Chapter 8-Keeping Secrets _

_Scarlett's instinct was to pound on Rhett's door again, but she'd heard the key turn in the lock and she knew that he would not open it again, not after she had shouted at him in front of his mother. He was probably wise, and besides, she didn't want to draw any more negative attention to their situation than she already had. He was too close to home, and if he wanted to make peace with Charleston, then he could have it! But not, she thought, without his wife by his side. Sighing, she returned to her own bedroom, needing brandy desperately but also knowing that it would be best to calm herself without it. And Rhett! She stared with narrow eyes at the wall which separated them. He would antagonize her to the end. If he had just been reasonable, he would have listened to her declaration of love, accepted it, and they would have been on their way back to Atlanta. As it was, he wouldn't even allow her to get near enough to have a civil conversation with him._

_She lay in the featherbed thinking that she at least ought to make an effort to show him that she wasn't the childish, selfish pet he'd purchased for himself. Oh no, she was in control of her emotions this time, and hopefully, she thought, her destiny. _

_She knocked softly on Rhett's door this time, which fooled him into opening it and she rushed inside before he could move to stop her. Successful, she had to resist the temptation to smirk as she turned around to see him slam the door furiously. _

"_Please, Rhett," she said quickly. "Just hear me out." _

"_I'm only going to say this once more tonight, Scarlett. Get out. Go home."_

_He said it so calmly that it was easy for her to ignore the apathy in his tone. She warned him, "If I leave tonight, it'll cause a scene."_

"_I realize that," he spat._

"_So, we agree?" his eyes narrowed as she spoke, so she hurriedly added, "We agree that I can't just leave tonight, I mean. And that we can't possibly be seen in separate bedrooms…"_

"_That is not going to happen, Mrs. Butler. Besides, I think that you've forgotten how little the threat of scandal means to me."_

"_Even you said that you would come back home often enough to keep the gossip down! You said it, Rhett! And you meant it, too!"_

"_I did say it. Don't give yourself so much credit, Scarlett. You're not the reason I would be coming back to Atlanta."_

_Denigrating her already? _

"_I suppose you're obligated to stay in contact with that Watling woman!"_

_He laughed. "Trust you to make such an accusation. No, my selfish pet. I was thinking about your children. Or have you forgotten about them already?"_

_Oh but he was low, bringing them into it! Surely he was baiting her, surely he didn't mean it! But his eyes betrayed nothing: no emotion, not even the faintest semblance of love. She felt the old feelings of fear return, as though she was again a frightened, lost child. She had run to Rhett looking for warmth and security, and he had none to give. Not anymore. _

"_Scarlett," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, "get out."_

Rhett's mother's house was only five blocks away. Scarlett had to see, just to see with her own eyes that he had been there. Her chest was tight. She had to have seen him. Even if her eyes had been playing tricks on her, she had _felt_ him. How silly of me, she thought, a sense of unrest sweeping over her. Melly will be home any minute and here I am chasing after a dream. He could care less about what I do and where I go. He made that abundantly clear, all those years ago…

Only a short distance across town, Melly was sharing in her mother's misery. She was quite bored, and the dances seemed to go on and on in endless succession: polka, mazurka, waltz, waltz, reel, another waltz. Melly remained sitting in the corner, her chin in her hands, thinking that all the females in the room were about as graceful as sows wearing rouge. It was all the fashion for the fall season, plenty of rouge to complement the gaudy, popular red and orange hues of the gowns. Why do blondes find those colors so becoming? Melly thought. She was glad to be a wallflower; oh yes she was.

And yet, her heart contracted with that tiny little stab of envy she had felt before. No matter how ridiculous the girl, they all seemed to have a beau behind them…or two in some cases. And then there was that lingering feeling that at every social occasion she had been invited to, there were things that were alluded to but never fully disclosed to her. She was used to being stared at; her mother had told her from and early age that she was pretty and would always attract attention. That had worked on her as a child, but not now!

Heart hammering wildly, Melly stood up from her chair with a start. She had to talk to Wade, she _had _to. For starters, she needed to know who Rhett Butler was and how he was connected to their family.

But Wade was dancing with Miss Ravenel, one of the bridesmaids, and looked in no mood to be interrupted from his conquest. Of course he's abandoned me, Melly fumed internally. She saw Mason out of the corner of her eye, still seated at the long-gone Captain Butler's table and still partner-less. She jerked her chin up and looked away from him, then suddenly was gifted with an idea-there was always Mason. She could ask _him_ about Captain Butler. He was his bosom companion, apparently. Besides, he had found her attractive enough to ask to dance, and he was sitting alone, without any ladies about him. How surprising, Melly thought, he _is_ handsome to be without a partner!

Suddenly, the thought of talking to him again became very real and very exciting, so she drew herself up proudly to her full height and marched over to his table.

"I've changed my mind," she said.

"You're a little bit tardy, don't you think?" he replied jauntily, his lips upturned into a half-smile "I do believe that there are only two more dances at the most."

"Well," she said, a sweet madness sweeping over her as she attempted to pry her eyes away from his mouth, "that is fortunate for me, then. I shall only have to suffer your company for two dances at the most."

He laughed genially at that, and extended his hand, leading her out onto the crowded dance floor.

He slipped one arm around her waist and pulled her close, holding her other hand in his. To her relief, he did not dance as well as she, and she silently lifted up a prayer of thanksgiving for paying close attention to Edelyn's instructions. But she had a purpose, she reminded herself, and she must not be seen to be too involved in this man who had hoodwinked her.

"So, how long have you been an acquaintance of Captain Butler?" she inquired, her tone honey-sweet.

"As long as I can remember," he replied. "He would come to see me quite often when I was a boy and would bring me the most superb gifts."

"That was kind of him," she said. "What sort of man is he?"

"Far too old for you," Mason smirked. "I'm teasing you again, Miss Melly, I do apologize."

"Well, Wade and my sister seem to know him well enough," Melly confided, losing some of her cool reserve. "And my sister seems to equate him with pestilence of epic proportions while Wade seems to genuinely like him. But they never think to tell me anything…"

At that, Mason looked sympathetic and vaguely discomfited. "I believe-well-I was under the impression that he was a friend of your parents', but that their acquaintance soured over the years."

"Oh dear," she pondered aloud, "perhaps he was disagreeable to Mother after her…" Melly paused, thinking that the subject of divorce was not a proper one for a public function.

Seeing her discomfort, Mason cut in. "But Rhett's a case these days. He's quite melancholy, the poor old man; and he's been so blinded by his all-encompassing unrequited love all these years that I think it's turned him rather cynical. Hateful, even."

"Blinded by his love? With whom? Madame Celeste?"

He laughed, "Miss Melly, how ever has the name of Madame Celeste reached your ears?"

She blushed, "well, at another ball in Atlanta-oh never mind! I take it that she is a lady of…" Melly's voice trailed off again, not wanting to state the nasty insinuation aloud. God's nightgown but she was forthright tonight! Perhaps it was the champagne…

"Questionable taste?" Mason smirked. "Madame Celeste is a brilliant French actress about half his age. But as for being in love with her, I think not."

"Well then, whom?"

Mason sighed. "The lady's name matters very little. He was married to her and it didn't work out and he never quite got over it."

"Ah," Melly nodded, her curiosity brimming over. "I take it that he and the lady never had any children?"

"A daughter. She died when she was very young."

"That _is _tragic," Melly said, feeling more than a smidgen of pity for Mr. Butler.

"Well, I take it that you've forgiven me, since we've now been dancing together quite amicably for several minutes. Either that or your poor little toes were not as pinched as you first suspected. Or perhaps you sveltely changed your shoes while I was not looking?"

"You are very mean, Mr. Kershaw, for teasing me so."

"Please, Miss Melly, I implore you to call me Mason as you did when we first met in the library."

"Very well, _Mason_. But before I forgive you, I must ask for something in return."

"Anything," he said, his voice alit with eagerness. Oh but he was devilishly charming!

"You must tell me all about Paris."

Again he laughed, as though she had said the most hilarious thing he had ever heard.

"Well, Miss Melly, what is it you'd like to know? Shall I tell you of the latest fashions? Or perhaps of my sordid misdeeds?"

"You _do _talk scandalous, Mr. Kershaw! Do be quiet! I wouldn't want my brother to overhear you."

"Well, I am aware that your brother has been shooting daggers my way for the past several minutes."

"Wade? Well he's…"

"Over there, shooting me a murderous glare. I do hope he doesn't mean to shoot me."

"What? Oh dear, don't look at him. He isn't dumb. He'll know that we're talking about him."

"I'm teasing; he's a good sport, your brother. Besides, I've witnessed some of _his _most illustrious indiscretions firsthand."

"Wade's?"

"Yes ma'am.

"Well, whether he knows you or not, it's rather obvious that he objects to how long we've been dancing."

"Do you care?"

"I most certainly do! And if you noticed that he was displeased, why ever did you carry on?"

"To be frank, it was difficult to notice him when I couldn't take my eyes off of you."

The flirtatious tone of his words startled her. He'd shown himself to be nothing but a gentleman thus far, and she never would have taken him for anything but that…but why then did his eyes seem to sparkle when he looked at her? Scandalously she thought, it's as though he's undressing me with his eyes…stop it, Melly! She warned herself, this is how girls get themselves called fast, staring up at a man in such a way…

"Have you ever been kissed, Miss Melly?"

"Now just a minute," she objected sternly, "I'm not sure what kind of girl you've mistaken me for-"

"Don't be angry," he cut in, his voice tinged with the sweetness of his appeal. "Again, I was merely overcome by your beauty and again, I owe you an apology."

"You most certainly do," she snapped. "And when this dance is over, I hope never to clap eyes on you again."

"You cut me to the quick, Miss Melly. I must take full advantage of this dance then, if I am to never see you again."

"I think that you're vile," she muttered.

"I know," he sighed abjectly. Of course she had never been kissed before, she mused internally, what sort of man would dare ask such a thing? And yet, for all that she was appalled, she struggled to keep her eyes off of his lips…

"My dear Miss Melly, it is most disappointing that a girl as endowed with charms as yourself has yet to enjoy the titillation of a harmless flirtation. Is there not some part of you that desires to _know_ what it's like?"

She glared up at him. Of course she had thought about being kissed by a man. But a gentleman, not a scoundrel such as he! Perhaps if he had made such a gesture that day at the library…no…not even then would she have considered it.

"You shouldn't speak about such things, sir."

"Tut, tut, Miss Melly. You've certainly talked enough about scandalous notions-women's suffrage for instance! That'd shock the pants off of a society matron, yet the thought of one little kiss sets your teeth on edge?"

"What sets my teeth on edge is the idea of being taken advantage of by a varmint like you!"

Mason laughed again. "You really should get angry more often, Miss Melly, your cheeks gain a new color and it's quite becoming."

More fury to add to the fire of her anger that was currently scorching inside. How dare he? How dare he? Why was she so swept away by him?

Suddenly, the music stopped. Mason took her hand and pulled hard on it as she turned to go. For a moment, Melly thought that he might kiss her in the middle of the ballroom, in front of Wade and all. To her horror, she felt a moment's disappointment as she realized that his lips were only going to touch her hand.

But yet, it was more exciting than she could have ever imagined. The tickle of the hair above his upper lip caused a tingling sensation that spread from her limp hand all the way down her body. She felt her stomach lurch and her knees seemed like to buckle at any moment.

"Melly?" Wade's voice was like a blast of cold water. "What do you think you are doing?"

Wordlessly, Melly felt her brother tug on her arm and veritably drag her out of the room. Somehow in the flurry of activity they ended up in Wade's carriage, where the penned-up outburst was unleashed.

"Whatever were you thinking? Allowing him to take such liberties! And at a public function!"

Melly's face was scarlet. How dare Wade lecture her when he had probably done much, much worse and then bragged about it afterwards. "How could you just drag me out of there? You humiliated me in front of Mr. Kershaw! Dragging me away by the sleeve as though I were a disobedient child!"

"I can assure you that your behavior in there was anything but childlike. But you're doing a fair impression of one now that you've remembered yourself."

"He kissed my hand, Wade! My hand! You act as though it was a criminal offense." But I _wanted_ him to kiss me, she thought vindictively, and now he never will!

"I know the intent behind it," Wade muttered. "I know as well as anyone. And he shouldn't have done it and you shouldn't have allowed it. I spent the whole afternoon telling you how much people gossip, especially when it comes to our family. You do not want to ruin the rest of your life because you acted fast with the first seedy upstart who noticed you."

"Seedy upstart?" Melly cried. "You act as though you're his best friend! Him _and _that nasty Captain Butler!"

Wade's face whitened. "The circumstances are completely different for me."

"Why, because you're a man?"

"Yes, partly. But primarily because both of them are business associates of mine and must be dealt with some semblance of courtesy."

"Do you call all of your business associates 'Uncle' so and so?"

His voice hardened. "Melly, I want you to forget about Rhett Butler and Mason Kershaw. I had no idea that you had met Mason in Savannah and I certainly did not expect to see him here tonight. He is not an appropriate companion for you, friend or otherwise. Do I make myself perfectly clear? Now, as to your question about Captain Butler, I have known the man since I was practically in diapers. When we lived in Atlanta, he would call on Mother from time to time. Does that satisfy your curiosity?"

"That really isn't fair, Wade. Mason-Mr. Kershaw-he wasn't _doing _anything!"

But Wade was impervious. "Well, it's my intention to see to it that he never does. Not to mention my responsibility. Now, now Melly, don't you cry."

"I'm not," she sniffed.

"Good. But I will be keeping a much closer eye on you from now on. I only want to protect you from men who would take advantage of your youth and inexperience. And don't you think for a minute that I'm being a hypocrite, Missy. I know damn well that I'm no saint; but I do want what's best for you. I just don't want a foolish flirtation to ruin your life, and it can, Sis. It can. I know."

He wrapped his arms tightly around her and pecked her on the cheek. "Don't be cross with me, Melly. I love you and I want to protect you, that's all."

She sighed as she leaned in against his shoulder. It was all Mason's fault, she told herself. He shouldn't have been looking at me like that at all! It's his fault…besides, he couldn't be all _that_ interesting.

The carriage came to a halt outside No. 5 East Battery Street, and Wade helped Melly down, whispering furtively, "Melly, if you would, I would be most grateful if you would not tell Mother that we ran into Captain Butler this evening. I would certainly return the favor and not disclose your little…indiscretion."

"What?" Melly cried. "I didn't do anything wrong! And why would Mother care about Captain Butler anyway?"

"Because," Wade said evenly, "just trust me when I say that Mother has enough on her mind. Do I have your word, my girl?"

In disgust, Melly pulled away from him and sashayed through the front door of Beau's house, slamming it behind her while Wade ordered the carriage put away. She hated him! How dare he forbid her from speaking to her own mother about Mason, when they had no secrets between the two of them, ever. But she would rather die than disappoint her parents…and if Wade told them that she had behaved badly, she could be forbidden from returning to school or from going to any parties at all. And she did like the parties…occasionally and in moderation.

Her parents had probably gone to sleep hours before, and Melly moved toward the staircase but was halted as a soft male voice reached her ears.

"Is that you, Melly? Come in here," the voice resonated from the study. Beau rose from his desk as she entered, his brown eyes glazed over with drink. He wore no jacket and the top buttons of his white shirt were unfastened. Melly noted a half-empty decanter of brandy sitting atop his desk. "You've grown up," he said, his voice breaking somewhat as he rubbed his red-rimmed eyes with the back of his sleeve.

"Are you alright, Beau?" she said with legitimate concern.

"Never better," he said frankly, slumping into the chair he had pulled out from behind the desk. "Send Wade in, will you?"

"Of course," she murmured, backing out of the doorway and motioning for Wade to enter. He held his hat in his hands, and wordlessly indicated for Melly to go on to the upstairs guest bedroom. She lingered for a moment, in case their conversation could be overheard. She had become an expert eavesdropper over the years, overcoming both her stricken conscience and her fear of discovery with the realization that one really did gain all sorts of useful information.

But Wade shut the study door tightly behind him, rendering it impossible to hear their muffled voices. Resigned to failure and seething with indignation, Melly hurried up the steps. She peeked into the master bedroom to see if her parents were still awake, but beheld only the sleeping form of her father.

Mother must have gone for a walk, Melly thought. Her mother would have understood. Her mother understood everything. Where was she? And on the day that Melly truly needed to talk to her!

If I were a man like Wade, she told herself defensively, I could dance with whoever I like and answer to no one. I could earn my own way in the world, and I would never have to do as my brother or anyone else tells me. As it is, the only thing I seem to be good at is talking tummy-rot about things that nobody else understands but Papa!

As if to add to her sorrow, she heard a hacking cough coming from the direction of her father's bedroom. Oh Papa, she sighed, I'm sorry for thinking of myself when I should be thinking about you…

Quiet tears fell down her face as Melly lay down on the bed and pulled the embroidered coverlet over her…

_**NB: I hope that Melly's personality came out in this chapter, and that she'll become as likeable to you (the wonderful readers) as she is in my head. Next chapter, she'll be back in Savannah. I do hope that no one has forgotten about that other young man who asked her to dance once before… THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU for the reviews. I appreciate the feedback so much! __- The Scarlett Starlet_

_(Also, thank you Patty Griffin, for your beautiful song __Nobody's Cryin'__. I had not planned to write Scarlett's flashback; but I was listening to it as I was editing this chapter and it inspired me, so that's definitely the background music for Scarlett as she's walking around Charleston in the dark.) There won't be a flashback every chapter, but I promise that the back-story will all be revealed in good time. :)_


	9. Chapter 9

_Chapter 9: Rebel Songs_

It was a mild mid-November day in Savannah, and the bright sunlight sparkled against the iron trim of the mansard roof atop the Rouzan's stately home. A number of nine Ravenel-Rouzan children were playing a game of tag, racing around the front of the house, laughing and screaming and trying desperately to stay out of reach of twelve-year-old Rene-Charles, who was "it" for the moment.

"Excellent shrimp, Rosemary," Rhett Butler addressed his sister.

Formerly Mrs. Henry Ravenel, Rosemary had been a left a rich widow with two young children in 1873 and had chosen to remain in quiet Savannah rather than uproot and return to Charleston with all of its negative energy. The decision had paid off, for less than five years later, she had fallen in love with and married Jean-Jacques Rouzan, an industrious Louisiana transplant, himself a widower with seven children.

"Fresh off the boat," his sister replied, her dark eyes sparkling. "More lemonade? It's fresh-squeezed."

"Please," Rhett held out his glass as his sister picked up the porcelain pitcher and refilled it. "You never fail to impress, my dear. Your spread is always impeccable."

"Oh Rhett, you know that there's always a place at our table for you. There's no need to thank me. It's I who am grateful to you. It would have taken more time and effort than you could imagine for me to pack up our small army of hellions and make the trip to Charleston and bring Mother back here with us all in one piece. I am eternally in your debt. More rice?"

"You're spoiling me with this New Orleans fare. I feel as if we're there at this very moment."

"Well, you know how Jacques is. If he's out of Creole country, then the Creole has to come back to us. Two new cooks he brought back with him on his last trip home! Two! And poor old Cookie threatened to quit after they showed up. 'Back wid de las' Miz Butler Ah's gwine. Ah's bin ordahed outer my own kitchen, Miz Rosemary!'"

"Poor old Cookie indeed. Last time I was here for Christmas she told me that she hoped I was dead next year, just to spare Mother the 'hum-ilation'!"

"Oh well, she means well, Rhett. Besides, you're halfway respectable these days. I wonder that you don't try for political office. You're a natural leader, and with the Butler name behind you…"

"The Butler black sheep? You think that'll get me elected? Thank you, Rosemary, but no. I'll leave the politics to your boy."

"He's not there yet. It's only a dream at this stage. But don't all seventeen-year-old boys possess a somewhat glorified vision of their future selves?"

"Well, when I was seventeen, I'd been shown the door by Father and spent most of my days wondering where my next meal was coming from. But in all seriousness, my nephew would make a fine politician. You should have heard the diplomatic response he gave me when I inquired as to his college choices."

"I know, I know. West Point to please his Grandmother, Virginia to honor his dear father, Louisiana to please Jacques, and New York to please himself."

"Columbia is a good school, Rosemary."

"I won't have him going to a Yankee school. Oh, I know that _that _boy went there."

"He has a name-"

"Yes, but I don't like him. Why ever did you let him use your middle name, Rhett? I've had three separate ladies ask me in confidence if he was your son. I was appalled by the insinuation. He looks nothing at all like you."

"I think it's the talent for trouble that bares a resemblance to myself."

"You never were _that _sort of trouble. Oh I know there was that one girl. But _he's_ got no sense of dignity at all. Common as dirt! And then he comes here whenever he's in Savannah and flirts freely with my Josepha. My daughter! A Ravenel!"

"Good thing he doesn't belong to me then," Rhett smirked. "I've never approved of consanguinity."

"Well, people would still talk, even if I did allow it. Which I won't. Josepha is wild, Rhett, wild. She wants to be an actress now. Can you imagine? Her poor father would roll over in his grave, God rest him."

"I like Josepha."

"You would. I wanted to enroll her at Saint Vincent's, but her academics are just not up to their standards. You know, she doesn't have a word of French, for all that her stepfather and her stepsisters and brothers are all fluent French-speakers."

Rhett frowned. "I've never heard of a girls' school having admission requirements."

"Haven't you? Well, I suspect that the ladies' curriculum has evolved somewhat since you were of school age, dear brother. To be fair, I suspect it's evolved since I was that age, not that Father would have allowed me any sort of an education."

"I'm happy to hear it. You know, I do believe that Scarlett's daughter is enrolled there."

"She is. I've seen her several times. Pretty little thing. I thought about making myself known to her, but Miss Pauline says that she knows very little about your past association with Scarlett, if any at all. So naturally I've not called on her. She has been a great comfort to Pauline though; I see her visiting the old dear often."

"I've seen her as well. About as spiritless as her father."

"She's young still, what, fourteen or so?"

He shrugged. "I wouldn't know."

"I wish Josepha would pick up some of her habits. She usually is always coming out of the library when I see her, loaded down with books each time."

He laughed. "I guess they named her appropriately, eh? Although you'd think that they'd have better taste than to name her for the lady they had both wronged."

"Rhett, you sound like a bitter old man, darling," Rosemary took his hand in hers. "You've been estranged from Scarlett for sixteen years, divorced for what, almost as long?"

"I hear you, Rosemary."

"I just want to make sure that you're alright, Rhett. Scarlett remarried, after all. You're still young…"

"Is sixty the new twenty these days?"

"Oh Rhett, you know what I meant. There are lots of eligible widows that would be proud to be the next Mrs. Butler."

"Widows?" Rhett put a hand over his heart. "You do cut me to the quick, Rosemary. No. I'm old and tired and I'm done with marriage. I tried it once. Didn't take."

Rosemary looked sad, but said no more on the subject. "Well, you must stay on for dinner, Rhett. Mother would be sad if you didn't, and Jacques would love a good long visit with you."

He grimaced. "I love Mother as constantly as the stars in the sky, but after the conversation I had to endure during the train ride here, I believe that I've had enough of her company to hold me over for a good while."

Rosemary stifled a giggle. "Well, the poor thing is close to eighty years old! What sort of conversation did you expect, sordid gossip? Oh Rhett, you never change, do you? Well then, why not go out tonight? The hotels always seems to attract interesting people."

He laughed. "Now you're talking. My kind of people."

"Not in the mood? Well, there's the Irish pub."

"Run by Clan O'Hara? Thank you, but no."

"Oh, you are impossible. Mr. James O'Hara, Jr. and his wife Maureen own it. They're fine people, Rhett. Pillars of the community, for all that they are in trade. You know, you can't hide from Scarlett forever."

"I don't hide from her, Rosemary. I work with Wade for God's sake."

"Wade Hamilton _is_ a delightful young man. Now, if he only showed interest in my Josepha…though I'm sure that every mother up and down the Coast has ambitions to see her daughter married to him."

"You know, I would never have thought that he would have been in such high demand…he was a shy, strange child."

"Oh, aren't all children peculiar in their own way? He's a handsome devil though. And apparently quite a head for business. You know, he opened a Kennedy and Wilkes in Augusta just last month. It's the _fifth _store! Can you imagine?"

"I am convinced that there is Jewish blood in him. Much alike his mother."

"Enough, enough. No more unpleasantness about Scarlett. Go do something useful with yourself."

"Yes ma'am," he grinned, kissing her forehead as he turned to leave, waving goodbye to the merry band of children as he returned to his waiting carriage.

As night fell over Savannah, Rhett Butler paced along the cobblestone lined Bay Street, pausing as he considered the making the right turn which led to the O'Hara owned and operated Irish pub. He took a long pull on his cigar and let out a lazy smoke ring before making his decision. Rosemary was right! After all, what better way to pass a long evening in the lazy city than in front of a pint of cold lager listening to foot stomping good music? After all, the Irish were known for their good times, and he needed one, and needed it desperately.

"A pint, please," he called to the harassed looking bartender as he entered the smoke-filled building. "Or, on second thought, a shot of your best whiskey."

"Right," the man said, then obliged as Rhett put his money on the bar.

"Any seats?" Rhett looked around the room, filled to the brim with patrons.

"'Tis filled up we are for the music tonight. Fellow by name o' McGinnis is in town. Real crowd pleaser. You'll have to try and find a seat for yourself. Just ask some young feller to move for over for ye."

Rhett rolled his eyes at the inference that he was senior enough to order a younger man out of his chair in deference to his age, but he took his glass with him and meandered toward the back of the room in search of a table. Perhaps in the back corner…

The big, booming voice of a young man could be heard over the roar of the patrons.

"Well, me Da was always a-singin' at our church back home, but me Ma was like to take a strap to me for sayin' that I'd like to make me way doin' it in America. 'For shame, Sean Patrick,' she'd say, 'makin' a spectacle of yourself in front of painted ladies and scoundrels! Over me dead body!' Da came 'round though, and paid for me fare. After I'd put in me two years at the dairy, o' course."

The laughter of a young girl filled Rhett's ears, laughter that he recognized instantly: Scarlett's laugh. Filled with a desire to flee coupled with immense, morbid curiosity, he weaved through the crowd until he saw her, bright eyed and enraptured in the conversation she was sharing with the owner of the large voice, a fair-haired youth with twinkling blue eyes.

"I don't know how you did it!" she smiled broadly. "I think that I would be frightened on that long of a crossing."

"Well, t'wasn't for the faint o'heart-" he began, then trailed off as he noticed Rhett's lingering presence. "Sir," he rose instantly and pulled out the chair he'd been sitting in. "Please, sit," he said, his face flushed. "I'd best get back to me tables, Miss Melly. They'll be wantin' me to sing again before long."

She looked after him in confusion as he scampered off toward the direction of the kitchen, then turned toward Rhett, who wore a wry smile.

"Oh, Captain Butler! Won't you sit down?"

"Miss Melly? We meet again." Rhett's face was contracted into a strange, unreadable expression, then he said, "Do you often frequent pubs, Miss Wilkes?"

"Only this one," she grinned conspiratorially. He noted that she too had a small shot of whiskey.

"Your special table, I presume?"

"Indeed. Out of sight to most. I'm very surprised that you recognized me. I do hope that you'll keep my guilty pleasure a secret. Of course, the proprietors are my people, after all…"

"Don't worry, your secret is safe with me." Rhett had to smile broadly at the irony he recognized. I'm always keeping secrets for you O'Hara women, he thought to himself. "Your young Irishman is very strapping."

"Sean? Oh…"

"And talented, I take it."

"He is. Talented, I mean. But sir, he's not _my_ young Irishman. He's just been very kind to me. I have very little in common with the other girls at school, so I…oh dear, I do apologize, Captain Butler. I have a tendency to either say far too much or nothing at all. I do hope you will forgive me."

He laughed. "As a casual observation, you appear much less reserved here than at formal social occasions. Although I understand that you made a deep impression on my friend Mr. Kershaw at the wedding reception last month."

She blushed deeply, "I'm afraid that I won't be able to see him again."

He raised an eyebrow. "And why is that, Miss Melly?"

"My brother won't allow it. And Wade in a temper is quite unpleasant to behold. He's very protective…"

"I can imagine that," Rhett said. "My sister too is much younger than myself and I was constantly fighting off her prospective beaux. I never had a temper like Wade Hampton, but I was a good shot."

Melly looked up at him with an expression of polite bemusement on her face. "I never did understand how you were acquainted with my mother, Captain Butler. Wade made it seem as if he had known you forever."

"I suppose it would seem that way to him. If memory serves, I first made your mother's acquaintance at a barbeque at Twelve Oaks, before Wade was ever even thought of."

"Oh, was that the same day that she accepted Wade's father's proposal? She used to tell me that story when I was younger. I do believe that she was exaggerating the number of beaux she had claimed! I used to think that it was odd that Papa didn't just ask her to marry him then. But of course, he was already promised to Beau's mother and he didn't want to dishonor the contract."

Rhett made an odd choking sound and cleared his throat loudly. "Yes, your father has always been the pinnacle of honorable conduct, Miss Melly."

"He _is_ a darling," she said loyally, "I hope that one day I'll be as fortunate as Mother."

Rhett laughed wryly. "Well, let us hope that it doesn't take you as long to find happiness, Miss Melly."

He raised his glass and clinked it with hers. "Here's to you."

"Ah, uisce beatha, the water of life," she returned his smile and downed her own glass as he did.

"I think that your brother wouldn't approve of that, Miss Wilkes."

"'Tis his own fault for introducing me to my O'Hara kin, they've taught me that one shot is mor'n appropriate for an Irish lass," she mimicked the brogue adeptly. "There, watch, Sean's going to sing. I think that you'll enjoy him, Captain Butler."

Rhett rested his elbows on the table and motioned for another drink. The fair-haired Irishman stood up, glass in hand, and said: "And what'll ye have now, gents? A drinkin' song, gypsy song?"

"A rebel song, laddie!" old Mr. O'Hara bellowed from the back of the room.

"A rebel song, so he says." Sean sat down on a stool, his guitar in hand. "David, if you'll oblige with your wee fiddle. Now, if there's any among ye who aren't knowin' this song, it refers to a battle back in 1798, at a place called Vinegar Hill."

"Aye, Aye!" calls from the back of the room caused Sean to smile. He rested his eyes on Melly, who was listening to his story with rapt attention.

"Well, 'tis the pike that was known as the Irish weapon. And that's all they had, the volunteers, fightin' as best they could against trained Redcoats. Well, we all know how it turned out. So, here 'tis: a very famous Irish rebel song for ye. 'Tis called _The Rising of the Moon_."

Sean had a rich, strong voice that soared out over the room, and even the bustling waiters stopped to listen. The old men in the back removed their caps, their pipes still lit and their elbows on their knees.

_"Oh! then tell me, Shawn O'Ferrall, Tell me why you hurry so?""Hush ma bouchal, hush and listen", And his cheeks were all a-glow."I bear ordhers from the captain, Get you ready quick and soon,For the pikes must be together At the risin' of the moon"._

Melly turned toward Captain Butler, whose face had paled considerably, and whispered. "Do you know this song?"

"Yes," he said stonily. "Yes, I know it."

_At the risin' of the moon, at the risin' of the moon,For the pikes must be together at the risin' of the moon._

_"Oh! then tell me, Shawn O'Ferrall, Where the gatherin' is to be?""In the ould spot by the river, Right well known to you and word more—for signal token Whistle up the marchin' tune,With your pike upon your shoulder, By the risin' of the moon".By the risin' of the moon, by the risin' of the moon,With your pike upon your shoulder, by the risin' of the moon._

_Out from many a mudwall cabin Eyes were watching thro' that night,Many a manly chest was throbbing For the blessed warning passed along the valleys _

_Like the banshee's lonely croon,And a thousand blades were flashing At the risin' of the the risin' of the moon, at the risin' of the moon,And a thousand blades were flashing at the risin' of the moon._

_There beside the singing river, t__hat dark mass of men was seen._

_Far above the shining weapons, h__ung their own beloved green._

_"Death to ev'ry foe and traitor! Forward! Strike the marchin' tune,And hurrah, my boys, for freedom! 'T is the risin' of the moon"._

The room filled with applause and Sean took a deep bow, clearly proud that the patrons had enjoyed his singing so. Melly too clapped her hands loudly and whistled in approval, then turned to see if Captain Butler had enjoyed the ballad as much as she-but he was gone. Hurriedly, she stood up and scanned the room for him. Thinking that perhaps he had been ill after all, she slipped out the back door to the alleyway, where she found him, knees bent and head in his hands. There were tears running down his cheeks; she could see them even in the dark.

"Whatever is the matter? Captain Butler? Are you alright? You're not ill, are you?"

"No, no," he said in a strange voice as he shook his head. "That song."

"What about it?" she put a hesitant hand on his heaving shoulder. "What is it, Captain Butler?"

"Patrick Cleburne. Battle of Franklin," he managed to choke out. "Irish general. Bravest man I ever saw. Died with that song on his lips. Like the Confederacy did along with him."

"Were you there?" she asked, her voice soothing and calm.

He nodded. "We were ordered on a suicide charge, and at the front of the division was General Pat Cleburne. During the advance he had two horses shot from under him but he continued to lead the attack on last time I saw him, he was leading his troops with his sword in one hand and his hat in he other. He and over sixty-two hundred men were slaughtered. Like pigs! The pride of the South, chivalry's flower. And I was standing next to Cleburne. I should have died that day. I should have died there."

He began to break down, and Melly, bewildered, just stood there, not knowing of anything to do but to stroke his back like Mammy did for her when she was sick. "It's alright, Captain Butler. It's alright."

After a moment or two, he seemed to remember himself, and he hastily wiped his face. "That's why an Orangeman like myself should leave Irish whiskey to the Irish," he attempted a joke and a halfhearted smile. "I apologize for forcing you to witness an old man at a weak moment. I make a point to keep unpleasant memories such as that one safely hidden away, and I am very sorry indeed to burden you with it."

"There's nothing weak at all about showing emotion, sir. My Papa cried once, when he spoke about the war. It was an awful time, Captain Butler. The memories run deep." She shivered as she thought of the singed foundations of Twelve Oaks. "The land hasn't healed yet. How can we expect the people who lived through it to have healed?"

He observed her with a new curiosity, as though he was seeing her for the very first time.

"You are very wise, Miss Melly. And kind, too."

"No, no," she blushed. "I just think about things too much. Would you like to go back inside, Captain Butler?"

He shook his head. "That's enough Irish for me this evening, Miss Melly. It's after dark though, do you need me to walk you back to school?"

She smiled. "It's only a few streets over, and Maureen always gets Kevin or one of the boys to walk with me, so I'm quite safe. Happy Thanksgiving, Captain Butler."

He inquired, "Are you off home for the holiday?"

"Tomorrow," she replied, smiling at him. Her dimples are utterly Scarlett's, he thought with a stab of perverse pleasure that she was so unlike Ashley.

"Ah," he said, then blurted out, "my best to your family, Miss Melly."

"I'll be sure to convey your regards." She bobbed her dark head politely, then walked back into the pub, leaving an astounded Rhett Butler standing there in the street.

Sean had turned the music over to the two fiddlers, who had gotten the patrons drinking and dancing. When Melly found her table again, she waved him over and he took the seat opposite her, a pint in his hand.

"I hope tha' your Da didn't mind me sittin' here with ye, Miss Melly. I'd be grieved if he'd been mad at ye."

She laughed, "Oh Sean! No, no. That wasn't my Papa. My Papa's at home, in Florida! That was Captain Butler. He's an old friend of Mother's, apparently-well, I suppose. But we seem always to being running into one another."

"'Tis surprised I am then, for you look just like him. Same eyes. Course, I scurried off before he had a chance at shootin' me."

"Well, we aren't related at all!" she said, puzzled by the assertion. "At least, I don't think we are…"

_NB: Again I've borrowed a name, this time that of 'Ravenel' from Rhett Butler's People, and again, no relation to the Ravenel's of that work. They were a prominent family in South Carolina at the time, and the name just sounded so snazzy next my made up one of 'Rouzan'. _

_Again, THANK YOU, THANK YOU for the words of encouragement! ~The Scarlett Starlet_


	10. Chapter 10

_Chapter 10: Hard Conversations_

Rhett Butler yawned and wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve, uncomfortably cognizant of the slapping sounds of the water hitting against the sides of the small sailboat. He rubbed his eyes and looked upward to the sky, the dark clouds hovering above, much a akin to his own hangover. He had not even been sailing in years, a landlubber far too long, and the ex-blockade runner was fairly desperate to relocate his old sea legs. The days that had followed his inopportune little confession to Miss Melly Wilkes at the pub had passed by in a blissful haze of an alcohol-induced stupor, which had culminated with an order from Rosemary to leave her house immediately and not to come back until he was good and sober; somewhere in there, he remembered Mason Kershaw, alias Pierce Mason Watling, showing up and offering him a chance to sail from Savannah to Cumberland Island. A short trip, Mason had said. Quick, easy. Get your mind off of things, the younger man had said. It had sounded perfectly agreeable at the time, and Rhett had actually looked forward to it with great anticipation. But the weather outside Savannah had been God-awful and they had blown off course, ending up somewhere closer to Jacksonville, Florida than to their destination, which lay on the Georgia side of the island. Now, as if to add insult to injury, he was seasick.

"You look awful," Mason said plainly.

"If I do, it's your fault. Call this contraption a boat? I can assure you that it is a far cry from the most seaworthy vessel I've ever been aboard. And I'll be damned if we have to send up the rockets and get towed back into Savannah."

"Says the man who spent his youth aboard a rickety riverboat on the mighty Mississippi? For shame, Rhett."

"Shut your smart mouth, boy. How long until we make land?"

"You're in luck. I've been following a fishing boat for about twenty minutes now-see there-they're presumably heading home, so we'll dock wherever they're going and spend the night somewhere and figure out which direction we need to head in to get to Cumberland by morning."

"Your navigational skills are truly remarkable," Rhett snapped irritably. "Two hours, you said. I've made the trip six times, you said. Well let me tell you something, sailor, I've sailed solo from Savannah to Nassau in less time than this."

"Oh, c'mon Rhett! You can't count the three hour storm delay as time spent sailing. And I don't know how we got off course. It really is usually a smooth sail. Of course, I normally go down this way in the summer, not now. Wicked cold, isn't it?"

Rhett shrugged, "I don't think it's so bad. So, what's the closest town, Jacksonville? I'm aching all over and need nothing more than a hot bath and a decent bed."

Mason smirked, "You'll find all that in Fernandina. I've been there several times. There's been all sorts of building going on, what with the railroad and all. Nice, small-town vibe though, and they do have an excellent rooming house. Little Irish lady named Miss Grace lets out rooms at a fair rate, and there's a fine establishment we can visit for entertainment after you've had your hot bath, old man."

Rhett shrugged. "Knock yourself out. I'm spent, and it's not even nightfall yet. Oh look-there's land."

"Right on the mark as usual, Captain," Mason smirked over the wheel. "Yup, that's Fernandina Beach. No-wait-the sand's awfully white for Fernandina. It must be the Amelia Beach."

"Amelia?" Rhett tried out the word, "I've not heard of that one."

"What about Isle de May? No? Isle de Santa Maria?" A faint blush appeared on Mason's cheeks. "Well, I do believe that your ex-wife lives somewhere on the Island, whatever they're calling it these days."

Rhett rolled his eyes. "Are you and Rosemary in this together? Or do you just revel in torturing me in my old age?"

"Don't worry, Rhett. We'll pull ashore then head straight into town. Like I said before, I've been here a number of times and I've seen neither hide nor hair of her."

"You've not laid eyes on her in your entire life," Rhett reminded Mason, who chuckled.

"No, I suppose I haven't. But I do believe that I would recognize her if she were before me."

Rhett shrugged. "I'm sure that she's aged. I'm not sure if _I_ would even recognize her." That was a lie, he thought to himself. He'd know the woman anywhere. And it was in his nature to want to see firsthand the new life she had apparently created for herself after him…but to imagine actually seeing her and Ashley up close, potentially speaking to them, all the while knowing that they were living together, sharing a bed and a life…That would have been torture enough, but it would be far worse now, knowing the child that they had made together, that beautiful girl. Rosemary had accused him of being bitter; well, how could he not be? Ashley's daughter had lived while Bonnie had not. And Bonnie would have outshone Miss Melly, Rhett thought with a vindictive stab of hatred that was directed more toward the girl's parents than the girl herself, who had done nothing at all to him. _Nothing but pity you_, the voice inside his head reminded him. Whatever had he done to deserve _that_? He had never spoken about the Battle of Franklin to anyone, and likely never would again. Why her?

"If she resembles Miss Melly, I would think she'd be nigh on unforgettable. I do long to see her again. She's a real peach, Rhett. I do believe that I'd be tempted to steal a kiss next time."

Sighing loudly, Rhett leaned back on the bench and propped his feet up lazily against the sailboat's railing. He inhaled deeply on the sleek, aromatic Cuban, then said, "I leave you to the girl's brother if you do. But do be advised that while little Miss Melly resembles Scarlett somewhat in looks, she's very unlike her in temperament. I do believe that she's inherited her father's disposition. That could be to your advantage, of course."

"You mentioned something to that effect at the reception. So, what sort of man is her father, if her brother must chaperone her instead of him?"

"Well, when I knew Ashley, he was nothing but a white-livered coward who couldn't remain mentally faithful to his wife but could never muster the energy to be unfaithful to her technically. I imagine that he's having a hell of a time with the she-devil he's married to. And he deserves every bit of it."

"Maybe his courage wasn't all he had trouble mustering up," Mason suggested coyly.

"Oh, the desire was there," Rhett sighed. "Why am I discussing this with you? I sure as hell didn't come here to reminisce about Ashley Wilkes and his honorable nature."

"I guess it's rough for you, being forced to look at Miss Melly, eh? Like seeing her mother all over again?"

Rhett shrugged. "She's so unlike Scarlett, I hardly know."

"Think she's what Bonnie would have been like?"

Rhett's eyes hardened. "I've let you push, kid. That's something you don't touch. Understand?"

Mason shrugged. "Help give me hand with the jib, will you? We'll pull up alongside that boat yonder…"

"Damn!" Rhett jumped up to adjust the jib boom. "I didn't realize we were so close to the dock." He moved to the far side of the boat, then called up to Mason, "Sure this isn't someone's private dock? I'm not paying a fine for you."

"We won't be here long," Mason called back over the crashing of the waves. "Tie 'er off, Rhett. If you can still jump. Make sure you take both dock lines."

Glaring back at the younger man, Rhett muttered under his breath, "And just who taught him how to sail? Damn fool."

"Alright," Mason said as they tested the anchor cleat. "Should still be here when we return."

A bolt of lightning flashed in the distance, illuminating the inlet so that the whitecaps seemed to dance against the grey backdrop of endless horizon.

"It looks like rain," Rhett cast a weary glance up toward the sky. "A heavy storm would destroy the flimsy thing."

"Don't be so morose, Rhett," Mason smacked him on the back. "The lightning's over that way, see? It'll stay put. And if it doesn't, it shouldn't be a long walk into town. Couple of miles at most. Would you look at that place? Wouldn't that be swell to live right on the beach? You ought to invest in some property out this way, Rhett. Last I checked, real estate was hot over at Jekyll Island. All the millionaires are coming down here to build summer homes."

The home Mason had indicated was handsome indeed, two stories high, the outer walls faced with a light-colored granite and the roof and dormer windows covered with Vermont slate.

"You know," Mason continued, "all these places have a system for ringing servants and electric lights. Usually, there'll be a gas-powered plant on the premises. Must be nice, eh?"

Rhett rolled his eyes as he continued to walk. "Do I strike you as the sort to want to throw my money away in a summer home that I'll likely never use? Thank you, but no. I've been on the water too much in my life to ever want to live next to it. I'd just as soon buy a boat sizable enough to live comfortably on."

"Now you're talking," Mason laughed heartily as he stopped to remove his shoes. "So, what would you do if that was Miss Scarlett's house, up there?"

Rhett ran a hand through his wayward hair and then looked up at the stately two-story house and back at Mason. "I know that Scarlett would never suffer a house like that."

"Why? Looks right nice to me," Mason commented.

"Exactly. The owner of that house has far better taste than Scarlett ever would..."

The entire town of Fernandina had turned out for the Annual Skating Masquerade Carnival at Lyceum Hall, even the rarely seen Wilkes family. Gossipy matrons whispered from the sidelines, commenting on the health of the father, apparently it was bad; and the sweetness of the child, who was now on the full threshold of womanhood; and of course of the mother, the beautiful Scarlett. Fernandina's citizenry was made up mainly of the nouveau riche, not the Old Guard, and Scarlett's beauty was rather a point of pride for them rather than a sore spot. It merely accented the glorious little paradise they had carved out for themselves; consequently, the entire family was a prized adornment to the little town, for all that they seldom appeared publicly.

Scarlett herself was dressed as a Gyspy girl, her gown low-cut and red, with black lace panels strategically draped across her bosom, while Melly was slightly more subtle as the Goddess of Liberty, dressed all in an aqua silk gown, the turquoise double cording painstakingly sewn by her mother. In her hand, she carried a silver torch, streamed with bright fabric which created the illusion of flames. Her mask covered only the top half of her face, her eyes like black coals set between the sparkling gems.

"I only wish you could join the fun, Papa," Melly said sadly, looking up at her father, so smartly dressed in his best evening suit. His mask was plain and white, and although it hid all of his face save for his eyes and mouth, there was no mistaking him for anyone else, even in a crowd.

"You go on, darling," he urged. "I'll sit over here with the other old gentlemen."

"Oh, Papa," she hugged him, "you'll never be old!"

"You shouldn't even be here at all," Scarlett chided as Melly disappeared into the throng of young people. "You're supposed to be resting, and you're constantly doing, doing, doing."

"I'm alright, Scarlett. And I was not about to have Melly skip the Carnival out of worry for her ailing father."

"Oh Ashley, I would have made her go."

"And then moped in the corner by yourself and made Melly miserable in the bargain? No, Scarlett. I am quite alright. Besides, no one could mistake you as the most beautiful woman in the room, what with that figure and long black hair…I would have been slacking my duty not to chaperone you, my dear."

"Fiddle-dee-dee, Ashley Wilkes!"

He chuckled, "I am very fortunate indeed, to have been granted such a task, and I've already been the recipient of many envious stares from the other gentlemen."

"Old Doctor Synder and Mr. Pope the druggist? My list of beaus is thin, Ashley," Scarlett smirked.

"You did forget Mr. Key the principal and Miss Annie's son, Mr. Liddy over there. See him, the Indian Chief?"

"Oh yes, I see him over there. All feathers…" she giggled and Ashley burst out laughing. He paused, then grabbed Scarlett's arm, overcome by a deep, relentless cough that drew many curious stares. Hastily, Scarlett steered him towards the row of chairs against the back wall.

"Won't you ever listen to me?" she said sharply as he sat down, leaning heavily on her to do so. "You're a fool Ashley, wearing yourself out over something silly like this, making yourself even more ill than you already are! How will it help Melly for you to get sick over her holiday? Is that what you want?"

"No Scarlett," he sighed wearily, "I hear you."

Exasperated, Scarlett rose to locate Melly with a toss of her long hair, leaving Ashley to sit by himself.

It was hard work finding her, but find her Scarlett did, alone in the ladies' lavatory, looking utterly miserable.

"Why Lady Liberty!" Scarlett said teasingly. "Why are you sulking in here instead of out on that dance floor?"

"I guess I'm not as eager to dance as I'd thought," Melly sighed. "I keep thinking about the last time, in Charleston. I certainly made a mess of things."

"Oh, good Lord!" Scarlett exclaimed, her green eyes wide. "That's it, isn't it? You're thinking about that boy, aren't you?"

Melly nodded. "Oh Mother, I feel so foolish. I barely know him. And Wade says that he's horrid and he associates with dreadful people that Ella doesn't like…" her voice trailed off as her mother's shrewd eyes fixed her.

"So you _didn't_ tell me everything, after all. Pray tell me, who does this Mason boy associate with that your brother and sister disapprove of?"

"No one," Melly attempted to skirt the question.

"Don't be silly with me, Missy. Tell me what you're hiding."

"Rhett Butler." Melly blurted out. "And I know that you and he were acquainted and I don't know how and I'm sorry that I lied, Mother." Melly stared down at her slippers shamefacedly.

Scarlett sighed. "I imagined that you would meet him eventually."

"Are you angry with me?"

"No," Scarlett said adamantly. "I'm not particularly happy that you hid it from me, but not angry. Did he speak to you?"

"Yes."

"Ah, well. This would not have been my chosen manner of addressing the subject of Rhett, but here it is: he was my last husband before your Papa."

"He was?" Melly said incredulously. "So that's why he and Wade are so friendly! He was his stepfather…but…why does Ella hate him so?"

"Because Ella was young, much younger than you are now when he abandoned us. And he did abandon us, Melly."

"Did you love him, as much as you love…Papa?" Melly questioned hesitantly.

"He and your Papa are two very different men, baby. Did I love him, yes I did. Was I happy with him, no. I was not. I could have been, perhaps. But I made mistakes, baby, so many mistakes. And other people have never been able to forgive them…and if I've made it miserable for you, oh, darling. I'd never forgive myself!"

"No, Mother." Melly returned her mother's embrace. "No, no, no. It's fine."

Scarlett searched her daughter's dark eyes for a clue as to her real feelings. She knew that Melly had been speaking from her loyal, loving heart, but Scarlett realized better than anyone how terribly bitter unpleasant truths were to swallow…

"I know that you've had a hard time, baby, being out in society without me there to help you. At least you know now why I can't be with you when you go to the parties in Atlanta or Charleston. But, you've done beautifully without me there. I would have made a fool of myself if Mammy and Mother had let me loose in Saratoga or Charleston all by myself at your age. You're such a good girl. So different from me. And people love you for yourself, not for your wealth or your tiny waist or any other silly little thing. You understand that, don't you, love?"

Melly nodded, and Scarlett continued. "I wish that I would have told you about Rhett sooner. I suppose that I wanted you to be blissfully ignorant about that portion of my life, and I've been so happy, since the day you were born…I've been so very, very happy. And now, look at my baby. All grown up. And you'll be looking for a husband yourself before long…I just hope that you choose well, like Ella did."

Melly grinned. "I've not found a man I want to marry yet."

"Well, it was good of Wade to point you in the right direction," Scarlett said, relief shining in her eyes as she hugged Melly again with an urgent intensity. "Oh dear, I've gone all teary-eyed. Help me with my mask, baby. Let's go back and see if there is a single gentleman in this room worthy enough to dance with you."

"Yes, Mother," Melly nodded, adjusting her own mask. "Let's do that. Mother, what should I do if I see Captain Butler again?"

Scarlett smiled weakly. "Well, there's no reason not to be polite to him. But you have no obligation to the man. None at all."

"And…if he asks about you?"

"Well, I doubt very highly that I've crossed his mind at all these past years. But, on the off chance that he does, don't mention it to me. I would rather not know…"

Ashley knew that the Carnival was Fernandina's biggest social occasion. Not only had every invitation been accepted, but from the crush of the room, there were a lot of out-of-town folks too. It wasn't surprising; there were many wealthy families spending the winter on one of the Islands and Fernandina was the closest, most cultured town, and boasted entertainment rivaling that which could be found in Jacksonville. But there was a surplus of guests, and Ashley noted the frazzled look on the Annie Liddy's face. Of course, the dear widow, the chairperson of Saint Mark's social committee and hostess of the event, would be far too sweet to do something as rude as ask for the extra guests to produce their tickets. After all, most were masked, and she couldn't well ask them to reveal their identities prematurely. The widow was dressed like Red Riding Hood, her little feet pattering across the wooden floor in a manner reminiscent of Aunt Pittypat, and her dark little eyes caught Ashley's instantly.

"Mr. Wilkes, is that you?" Miss Annie queried, wringing her small hands together.

"Indeed it is, ma'am, how may I help you?"

"Oh good, I saw Mrs. Wilkes on your arm when you arrived and I knew it had to be you. Oh good heavens, she does put the rest of us to shame! Anyway, I had two guests that have just arrived. Wetter than fish, both of them, two gentlemen, an older man and a young one. Nice gentlemen, they said that they were sailing from Savannah. Can you imagine, in this weather? Well, I think that they docked their boat on your property, Mr. Wilkes. But I told them that you were an obliging gentleman and would certainly be agreeable to it remaining there until morning."

"Certainly," Ashley began, but was interrupted quickly.

"Lovely, lovely. Well, they had sought lodging at the boardinghouse and learned that the whole town was here, so I just had to invite them to come in and join the fun. Of course, they'll be the only two unmasked. But nice gentlemen, I think."

"I'm sure, and where are the gentlemen, Miss Annie?" Ashley inquired politely, scanning the room for unmasked faces.

"Right there, by the door," she indicated with her eyes.

Ashley Wilkes drew in his breath deeply, his eyes falling directly upon the figure of Captain Rhett Butler.

_NB: Apologies for the minor cliffhanger... I know that this message is repeated a lot, but I really, really, really appreciate the feedback SO MUCH! Thank you to everyone who has read/reviewed/subscribed/favorited... It really means a lot to this author. ~The Scarlett Starlet_


	11. Chapter 11

_Chapter 11: Dancing With the Devil_

Melly struggled through the crush of dancing couples, far too many of them were packed into the small reception hall. Despite the packed room, it was easy enough for her to recognize the bulky figure of Thomas Sweeney heading in her direction. She'd met him at another church social, and he'd been rather infatuated with her then, despite the fact that he was many years her senior and had once claimed to be in love with her sister. In his early thirties, he was decent looking, but Melly had no desire to give him any false impression of admiration on her part. That and he _was _a Yankee, with the most deplorable accent. Fumbling for her hand, he drew it to his lips and kissed it.

"My dear Melly, how the Savannah clime seems to agree with you. You are indeed, a vision."

"Tom Sweeney!" she chided, "I am Lady Liberty tonight! We are not supposed to reveal our identities until midnight, else we're disqualified from the contest."

"Apologies, Miss. Seems my tongue has run away again. Would you dance with me, allow me to make it up to you?"

She blushed. It wasn't that she did not want to dance, truly it was not. But she wanted to dance with someone very specific, someone who was probably miles and miles away…but Tom Sweeney was harmless enough. Still!

"I would prefer to wait until the room has cleared somewhat," she forced a smile. "Perhaps then?"

"Very well," he smiled, as though she had promised him every dance. "I shall look forward to it-" With one of his male companions calling him to join them outside for a cigar, he hurried off, yelling behind him: "-Lady Liberty!"

Melly chuckled to herself as she watched him stroll off. Hopefully she and her parents would be long gone before the unmasking at midnight, thereby sparing her the dubious distinction of parading before eager young men who did not come near her in either intelligence or degree of decorum. It wasn't that they weren't nice, but they were so very unlike the sort of man she had always envisioned herself being courted by and eventually married to.

Frankly, they weren't Mason Kershaw.

Sighing, she scanned the crowded room for her parents. They wouldn't be hard to find ordinarily, if only the room wasn't so packed; her tall, handsome Papa would be easy to spot even if people hadn't guessed who it was hovering over his beautiful wife, garbed like a Gypsy. After all, Melly thought with pride, they made such a striking couple…

"I can't believe we've shown up here," Rhett Butler said, poking Mason in the back to get the younger man's attention.

"Damn! That hurt." Mason turned toward Rhett, whose arms were crossed over his chest. "What's eating you, anyway?"

"What's eating me is that you've brought me to this godforsaken island and now, I'm standing here making eyes at Ashley Wilkes!"

"Ashley Wilkes?" Mason said with interest, "Where is he?"

"Over there. The only one not dressed in a ridiculous costume. See?"

"Right, the tall gentleman. I see him now. White mask, right? So that's Miss Melly's father…"

This was beginning to sound like their last discussion, and Rhett didn't think that he could bear to hear it again. But Mason had been hard-nosed since the moment they had walked into town. The boy was insufferable, Rhett thought. Boys are no good when it comes to resisting the charms of women! The irony of it all was not lost on Rhett, that Scarlett's daughter was being pursued by Belle Watling's boy was distinctly amusing to him…but damn it, he didn't want to be involved in it!

"You aren't being reasonable about this, Rhett. He isn't even likely to remember what you look like."

Rhett had choked on an incredulous laugh. "I rather doubt that. I'd recognize him anywhere, and I'm sure that he would say the same about me."

"Think your wife will recognize you?"

"I don't have a wife," Rhett replied stiffly.

"Don't ignore the point I'm making. If he's here, she'll be here too. And if you're going to have a problem with it, then I'd suggest you leave."

"You're giving the orders now, eh?" Rhett snapped.

"Well, I'm just saying. And if you make a scene, I'll never be able to catch a glimpse of my lady fair."

"God damn it, Mason. Enough about Miss Melly. I don't want to hear it, I sure as hell don't want to see it. What I am going to do is sit outside this building for five minutes while you make your overtures. And if you so much as think about drawing it out so that I have to make conversation with any of _them_-"

Mason smirked. "Why not just go back to the boardinghouse?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Why do you want to wait outside? Why not just walk back to the boardinghouse? Better yet, the saloon. Drown your sorrows like usual."

"And leave you to make a spectacle of yourself with Scarlett's daughter?"

"Why can't you just admit it, Rhett? Your eyes lit up when you saw Ashley, and I know damn well it's because you're dying to see Scarlett. And I'm not faulting you for that, Rhett. Besides, when are you going to get another opportunity like a masquerade?"

Damn the boy! As if he wasn't capable of figuring that much out on his own? As if it made a difference that he craved a glimpse of Scarlett with all his being? But it was a path of destruction he was embarking on, one that he'd been desperately trying to avoid for sixteen years. _Forget about her, old man!_

Stymied and frustrated, he held up his hands in defeat.

"Fine! You win, Mason."

Weighing his options and deciding that arguing with Mason was not going to get him anywhere, Rhett headed outside.

What if he did see Scarlett? What if she was still as beautiful as he remembered, and what if he still wanted her as much? Time was not making that go away, no matter how many times he went over the wrongs she had done him in his head. But they had tried to kill each other the last time, he thought with wry satisfaction…of course, that kind of heat had only transferred into mindless, explosive passion of another sort. _That _had precipitated the divorce. He could not allow himself to be manipulated by her again, must less risk his heart for the umpteenth time. But she had thrown him a curve by marrying Ashley less than six weeks after his lawyer had presented her with a bill of divorce. He had gotten himself smolderingly drunk at that news…The bad memories engulfing his senses, Rhett held onto a fervent hope that Mason would get what he'd come for so that they could leave, and quickly. For deep down, Rhett knew that one sight of Scarlett would never be enough, not as long as he was so close to her.

Sounds of lovemaking were coming from a nearby gazebo and Rhett crept a little closer to ascertain that it wasn't Mason placing Miss Melly in a compromising position.

"Sir!" the startled young man cried, his ladylove's bosom heaving. "You should have made your presence known."

"Terribly sorry for the intrusion," Rhett backed away, chuckling softly. He then noticed the fellow's mask tossed haphazardly on the ground. It was a wondrous thing, a full face mask, the devil's face to be exact, complete with ceramic horns.

The fool was obviously finished with it, Rhett thought to himself. At least Ashley wouldn't recognize him so easily. Armored to his satisfaction, Rhett reentered the hall, merry as a schoolboy. He was free to observe at his leisure, although, in the back of his mind he was keenly aware that some part of him wanted to do more than observe her…

From her position in the middle of the dance floor, Scarlett was keeping a weather eye on Ashley, who was standing at the door with a baleful expression on his face. It wasn't fleeting, and it persisted for several straight minutes, which of course caused Scarlett's curiosity to get the better of her. But she could not for the life of her tell who or what had caught his rapt attention, save for the fact that they were on the same side of the room as she. There were four people standing in front of her on the edge of the crowd facing the dance floor. The music stopped briefly, so a few of the couples moved to the chairs to take a rest, which gave her a clear view of Ashley. While the expression on his face was unreadable, his eyes had turned downright lethal. Then it occurred to her that he might have been sending someone a message-she whirled around to find Melly, who she noted had danced twice with the same young man, this one nice looking and without a mask. Nothing was amiss there, Melly was chattering with the young man animatedly and as soon as the music started he led her out on the dance floor. As a stab of maternal pride came over her, Scarlett almost forgot about Ashley, whose piercing gaze was still focused on something behind her. That left Mr. Liddy, the Indian chief for the evening, and a tall, broad shouldered man with a terrifying full face mask. She had seen him before, in the company of a young woman-perhaps Ashley had noticed that he was now short of a companion. It was then that she noticed that the eyes underneath the devil's face were directed at her. _How silly you are, Scarlett! You still think that you're the belle of the County!_

As she turned around to rejoin Ashley, a rather loud sigh stopped her and made her glance at the man again. He was looking at Melly! Of course, Scarlett thought with seething indignation. Not only had she flattered herself by thinking that a much younger man had been taken so with her, he was clearly leering at her daughter. She should have walked back to Ashley, where she belonged. But something within her compelled her to give that young upstart a piece of her mind. She turned toward Ashley again, then back around, finally walking up to the devil-masked man and tapping him on the arm.

"If you wouldn't mind," she addressed him, "I would be much obliged if you would stop staring at my daughter. Her father would as well." The last she said pointedly, hoping to shame the man at the very least.

The mask was thick and muffled his speech as he replied something that she couldn't make out.

"What was that?"

"We could dance," the voice annunciated from inside the vile mask, still barely comprehensible.

"After you've spent the last fifteen minutes ogling my daughter? Thank you, but no." Scarlett smirked. She never tired of being able to put men in their proper places; now that she was a woman of a certain age, there was no longer a need for coquettish charm or honeyed words-she could be as rude as old Grandma Fontaine and nobody reproached her for it.

She heard a strange noise coming from inside the mask and realized that it was-laughter?

"Is something that I said amusing?" she shrugged her shoulders casually.

"Where I come from," the voice from inside the mask said, "it would be considered immensely scandalous for the mother of a girl that age to be donned in such…attire."

Scarlett huffed. "Well, it is a Carnival! Oh! I don't need to explain myself to you. Just who do you think you are, anyway?"

"Merely an admirer." She could imagine a smile forming underneath the atrocious mask.

"Well, I am a married woman." Scarlett drew herself up proudly and to her immense pleasure, she could sense the man's smile drooping.

"Why does your husband not join you on the dance floor?"

"He's too busy keeping watch over our daughter, protecting her from varmints like you!" she said, turning to leave.

"Wait," he commanded firmly, his hand on her wrist. "One dance. The Varsovienne. I'm told that Gypsies perform it most admirably. Please, do this poor devil the honor, Mrs.-"

"Wilkes," Scarlett snapped, irritated. The slow, graceful music began, and he had her in a promenade hold. _Great balls of fire, but he's got a firm grip on me-it's like dancing with Rhett! _

"So," she said conversationally, "are you from Fernandina?"

"No," he replied, then added for good measure, "_Mrs_. Wilkes. So, does your husband allow you to dance with strange men often?"

"Certainly, if they are not coarse or unpleasant. But you sir are both, which is why I'm going to ask you to leave as soon as this dance is finished."

"Why not ask me to leave now?"

"Because it would cause a scene, you impertinent thing! And if you're not from Fernandina then where are you from?"

"I came tonight with a companion," he said. "That young gentleman with your daughter, to be exact." Scarlett looked at the young man with fresh interest. Melly was clearly taken with him; Scarlett would have been too, at Melly's age. His hair was dark and his skin was sun-bronzed, but he was unlike Rhett in the fact that he not nearly so overpoweringly masculine. But as for the man who was dancing with her…

"You're hurting me," Scarlett whispered furiously. "Turn my arm loose!"

"Am I?" he seemed to laugh. "I apologize, it must be the devil in me tonight."

Was he _flirting _with her? Surely not! She had seen him take off the mask earlier when he was dancing with the young girl, and deduced that he was probably closer to Melly's age than her own. But it was rather charming to be held by such strong arms…

She swept him a dazzling smile. "I must say, for such a brutish young man, you dance very lightly."

"Young?" she could hear laughter coming from inside the mask.

"But you must not hold me so tightly," she scolded gently.

Again he laughed. "I don't think you'd mind so very much if your husband wasn't looking on with envy."

His words caused her to misstep and accidentally bump into another couple. Muttering an apology on her behalf, he swung her back into rhythm as if nothing had occurred. He twirled Scarlett round the dance floor, pulling her closer to him than protocol would normally allow. She could feel the rise and fall of her breasts as they made contact with his chest, something within her stirred, some long-dormant passion, and she distinctly felt as though she had been held that way before…

"Yes indeed, Mrs. Wilkes, I suspect that your loving husband will be jealous to see you dancing with the devil. Of course, truth be known, the devil really is a rather dull fellow deep down. Although, Mrs. Wilkes, I fail to understand what charms your elegant husband holds for a girl, excuse me, _woman _of your tempestuous nature."

_Surely not._

Her temper soaring to the point of an erupting volcano, she broke one arm away from his hold and found the tie of his repulsive mask, tugging it away from his face in one swoop.

Her voice just under a shout, barely within a controlled rage, she dropped the ceramic mask to the ground, chipping one of the horns before saying, "You low-down cad! You vile, black hearted thing! How can you stand to face me, even after _last time_? Especially here? How?"

He frowned over her question, his black eyes flared wide as the memory to which she referred crossed his own mind. With a smirk, he said, "To pay my respects to the happy couple. And you are happy with Ashley, aren't you Scarlett? All your dreams have come true for you?"

The tone of his voice, tinged with insult, made her see red. How dare he insult Ashley? She almost flew at him in front of the entire town. It was so close! But just enough of her sense of dignity remained that she turned around and walked away before they picked up where they'd left off at their last meeting and tried to kill each other. It had been the night he had inadvertently given her Melly…

_**NB: I am eagerly anticipating my wonderful readers' thoughts! The reviews certainly drive this story. (The chapter of Rhett and Scarlett's "last night" has been written, and it's almost ready to be unveiled in the next few installments. It's a little [okay, a lot] heavy on the smut factor.) So, opinion time: It can be a full chapter, or it can be a series of flashbacks over the next few chapters. Would it be more enjoyable to read it all in sequence? _


	12. Chapter 12

_**NB**: My dear readers, this chapter has gone through more revision/reworking than I care to disclose, but I hope that you find the result fulfilling. Yes, the NB is on top because this chapter contains __**SMUT**__. Now, __**younger readers/those who are not fans of smut**__, you can safely __**stop reading **__at the __**second section of italics**__, and __**not miss any plot **__at all. That being said, I think I can get by with leaving this story rated T(teen), just not the __**second set of italics**__ in this chapter. Alright, happy reading! Love me some feedback!__ ~The Scarlett Starlet_

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><p><em>Chapter 12: Memories<em>

"What happened to you?" Mason asked Rhett from the doorway as the older man returned to their shared room in the boardinghouse. "I was only able to dance with Miss Melly twice before her father snatched her off and when I got back to the table you were gone." He paused as Rhett let out a loud sigh as he heaved himself onto the bed.

"Well, you might have said something. I looked like a proper fool sitting there waiting on you to come back. Even though all you've done this night is chew my ear off. And I'm still not sure as to my offense…you did see Scarlett, didn't you?"

"Sorry about the ear-chewing."

Mason shrugged. "Since I was supposed to be keeping you out of there, I guess I deserved it. I thought that by dancing with Miss Melly, I'd give you a little time in case you did manage to get a few words in with Scarlett alone."

"If you thought that was a possibility, you were dead wrong."

Mason stretched out on his own bed and yawned. "So, I take it we're leaving first thing tomorrow?"

"You can do what you like, but I am. The proprietress tells me that there is a steamship leaving tomorrow that can be to New York from here in a mere seventy-four hours, dock to dock."

"New York? Why the sudden urge to go there?"

Rhett shrugged his broad shoulders but did not meet Mason's eyes. The panic inside of him was very similar to that which he had felt fourteen years ago while waiting for the train to convey him from Jonesboro, horrified by what had transpired between Scarlett and himself and incensed that he had been taken in by her again. The woman was toxic, and the sole demon residing within his own personal hell.

His fear had been very real that night because he'd lost all of the ground that he had gained since leaving her in Atlanta, a mere two years before. He had a little more leeway now, over a decade after the fact, but clearly he was still not to be trusted where she was concerned. And he had clearly been on her territory. But as long as he vacated the premises as soon as possible, he still controlled the situation.

"Let me guess," Mason said next. "Scarlett confessed that her husband holds no charms for her and she wants to run off with you instead."

"Exactly."

"I was kidding. She hadn't seen you in such a long time, I doubt if she'd still find you attractive enough to elope with…her on the other hand, were she available, I would…"

"Will you shut up? And for your information, time is irrelevant if a woman has been connected with you for over half of her lifetime."

"I think that time is actually more relevant then," Mason stood up and marched over to the end of Rhett's bed and peered down at him. "For instance, let's just say that she still held a torch for you. Well, she's been married to Mr. Wilkes for, what? Help me out, Rhett. How soon after your divorce went through did she marry him?"

"Six weeks, give or take." Rhett's reply came out as more of a growl.

"Six weeks," Mason said triumphantly, "so that leads me to believe that she was able to forget about you rather quickly, if she met someone anew and married them within such a short time."

"If you must know, you impudent wretch," Rhett spat as he rose from the bed and began pacing around the room. "Scarlett was in love with Ashley long before I ever came into the picture. I thought that I could-well, it doesn't matter what I thought-suffice it to say that I didn't escape from that horrid situation all those years ago to become embroiled within it again. It was bad enough that you brought me here at all, and I'm still steaming over that. But seeing her…It would have been nice to know that she's tormenting him for all eternity."

Mason smirked. "But she's not?"

"So it would seem."

"Well, why did you divorce her then? You obviously care tremendously for her, even after all these years."

Rhett gave him a wry smile. "I suppose that I feel obligated to care, on some level. After all, the woman was married to me for a time."

"You didn't answer my question. Why divorce her and ruin her socially if you felt obligated to her?"

Rhett's face darkened. "Obligated because we made a verbal contract? She certainly didn't hold up her end of the bargain on that agreement. Not until the end, anyway. I didn't give a damn what she did then and I don't about what she does now. She can live out her merry days with Ashley Wilkes, I could care less-"

"But still-"

"No, by God, do not try to make me feel guilty for cutting ties with someone who had done every conceivable wrong to her husband and children and lived to lie about it. Besides, and there is no polite way of saying this, I hate Ashley Wilkes and the thought of her in bed with him every night makes me want to hurl my guts out. But recall this, Pierce Mason, before you judge me, I presented her with divorce papers. I did _not _force her to affix them with her signature. If she had not, maybe, just maybe, there might have been hope of an eventual reconciliation between us. Then, and only then, would I have been obligated to her. As it happened, she signed them the next day. And married goddamned Ashley six weeks later!"

"I'm beginning to understand."

Rhett rolled over onto his stomach and let out a heavy sigh before glancing up at Mason. He nodded, then said, "Thought you might. You see, Mason, a gentleman would have honored his wife above all else, through thick and thin and any indiscretion. If she displeased him beyond redemption, he might seek comfort in the arms of a mistress, but that's it. Which isn't to say that I wouldn't honor my wife with love, if I had possessed one worth loving. Ashley had one. Your Miss Melly's namesake. And yet, he couldn't be content with the gentle goodness of his own wife. No, he had to hover over mine."

"I thought that I understood you to say that _she_ was doing the hovering, not him."

"His attempts to resist her were piss poor. But it doesn't matter now. I've seen them both one last time, and I've broken all of my old ties for good." Mason smirked. "Oh really? How is that? You know, you said that you'd done that the last time you saw Scarlett. Remember? We had been to the Jonesboro fair with Celeste and you were so drunk you couldn't stand up?"

"I actually told you that I'd seen her? Why didn't you mention it to me when I was sober?"

"Figured it was something that you didn't particularly want to talk about. Besides, you didn't speak to her that time. You just watched her playing with that little girl. Hey, you don't think that the little baby was Miss Melly do you? Ha! Damn, that makes me feel old."

"How astute you are," Rhett said sarcastically. "You know, you have an amazing lack of curiosity, my friend."

"l prefer to call it patience. The ladies all advise me that it is an admirable trait. But eventually, I always find out all that I desire to know. Even-" he said devilishly, "their most appalling secrets!"

Rhett's mouth formed a thin line. "You aren't seriously considering pursuing Melanie Wilkes, are you?"

"Do you care so much? I would think you'd be thrilled to death. Besides, I think we're about the same level, don't you think? My Ma was a whore and hers is a divorcee."

"There is a difference," Rhett muttered. "And you are a grown man and she is very much a child, even if she does belong to Scarlett and Ashley."

"I know that she likes me," Mason smiled. "And I'd be lying if I said that I didn't find her a fetching little piece. But Rhett, I think you're kidding yourself if you think that you can just walk away. You're involved now, whether you like it or not."

"Involved? Hell! I happened into a party at which she happened to be in attendance."

"And then you proceeded to dance with her in full view of her husband and daughter. You know, she's got to be thinking that you sought her out."

Rhett did know that, and the thought made his blood boil. The last thing that he wanted her to know was how pathetic his life was. Time had done enough of its work on his appearance, but apparently not as much as he'd thought it had. Although his body had definitely aged, his face hadn't altered drastically in fourteen years. Scarlett had to have recognized him even underneath the mask, or at least thought him familiar enough to unmask him herself. And then, she had just walked away, calmly and with her head held high. Good God, but he hadn't seen that one coming. She bore absolutely no resemblance to the pleading, broken woman he had left in Atlanta or the half-crazed wanton siren he had left at Tara. Who would have thought? Ashley Wilkes had managed to do what Rhett, with all his grace and charm, could not: turn Scarlett O'Hara into a proper lady.

"I can't go anywhere near her, Mason. She's a disease which has no cure."

"So, you obviously don't still feel any sort of obligation?"

"No, not a single one. She has Ashley, remember. Her knight in shining armor. Well, and her older children. She managed to barter them to improve her own social situation."

"That's ridiculous, Rhett, and you know it. The girl debuted my senior year of college. She was the belle of Atlanta, for all that she wasn't there a whole season. Joe Fontaine could have had any girl in the state, but he went after her before I could even say hello-not that any of those girls wanted to exchange pleasantries with a fellow named Watling-and then there's Wade. He's decent, despite his current tide of disapproval over my friendship with his little sister. But he makes his own choices, Rhett. Rhett, what are you thinking, you look like you're in a trance. Rhett?"

_Ashley grabbed the child in his arms and hugged and kissed her with all of his might. _

"_Set me down, Papa! Down!" she squealed with feigned horror and sheer delight. _

"_Yes ma'am, your wish is my command," he sat her down with a kiss on each cheek. _

_The child was even more beautiful up close than Rhett had first thought. Laughing up into Ashley's face, her eyes were sparkling with pleasure and adoration. Rhett knew that look. He had committed it to memory and then locked it away safely within the folds of his mind, for he would never experience it again for himself._

_A sudden wave of electricity fell over Rhett as Scarlett appeared from behind Ashley. With a flash of bright lips and flushed cheeks that contrasted starkly with her creamy white skin and black velvet gown, she too rushed over to pet the child. Talking rapidly, she took the little girl's hand in her own, and reached for Ashley's arm with her free hand. _

"_Hasn't she seen everything, Ashley? We have only a few hours before Wade's train leaves and I want to walk around Tara before we leave." _

"_Of course, my dear," Ashley replied resonantly. _

_And Rhett watched as Ashley Wilkes lead his wife and child away…the wife and child that could have been his own… _

Scarlett had gone directly home and locked herself in her room. She had thought about waking Mammy up, but she was in such a state that she feared that she might unintentionally lash out at the old woman. Besides, she didn't want either Ashley or Melly to see her like this. She was beyond enraged, trembling with so much emotion that she couldn't even sit down. Her worst nightmare was back, now when Melly was so close to adulthood and Ashley so close to…oh she couldn't bear to think of that.

But his appearance had not been a dream. He had danced with her, spoken to her, held her in his arms, and probably laughed at her from behind that damned mask. Fourteen years since she'd last seen him, and for all that he had aged, he hadn't even changed at all. The proof was in the way he had spoken so contemptibly about Ashley. If he only knew! If he only could have seen Ashley holding her hair for her as she vomited into a basin, or seen him stand vigil at her bedside as she almost died giving birth to another man's child. If he only knew that Ashley had begged her to reach out to her estranged husband when she discovered that she was carrying Rhett's child, unwillingly given; but Ashley had understood her pride, her refusal to share with Rhett what he had spurned. He had married her to give the baby a name and a father, but had expected nothing from Scarlett in return. If he only knew how sick Ashley was…

But Scarlett had changed. She no longer allowed her temper to reign supreme. She hadn't tried to scratch Rhett's eyes out, no, she'd run away from him instead. But yet, her anger would not abate. Was he here in Fernandina with that horrid boy to try to lure Melly away from her? Surely not, she reassured herself, no one knows except Ashley and me and Mammy and maybe Ella. Wade hasn't a clue and Beau even less. But Melly knows him now! He'd already met her at least twice before; surely he had to see the resemblance!

Why should she be the least bit surprised? Worse, how could she ever have been attracted to him? She was disgusted with herself for the mistake. She should have been able to see him instantly for who he was, and yet, she had been a pathetic, desperate housewife, overeager for a dance with a strapping man. He'd always looked down on those sorts of ladies and had let her know it in the past. God's nightgown, but the memories were flying at her. She had thought that she'd put all of that behind her, never again to think about those horrible days. And she hadn't, not in fourteen years…then again, Rhett Butler had never been around to remind her…

_Scarlett was already edging around him toward the door, ready to bolt for it if he moved an inch. He was drunk and angry already; there was no telling what he would do next. Then, she noticed a smirk on his lips. The bastard had frightened her deliberately, as well as made a mockery of her in front of Will and Suellen! The fury that consumed her was greater than any she had felt as she had lunged for him on the staircase. Unable to control herself, she bolted for the door, stupidly putting herself within his reach. She ended up on the bed, facedown, with his heavy weight atop her. _

"_Let me up this instant!" _

"_Not so fast, Mrs. Butler. I quite prefer you this way. Tamed." _

_She struggled for several minutes in earnest, but he was holding her wrists tightly, binding her between him and the bed. _

_He leaned close to her ear and whispered provocatively, "Well, Mrs. Butler? Shall we take our quarrel to a new level?" _

"_You're despicable! You have no decency, none! No gentleman would be holding me down like this-let me go, you filth! Let me loose!"_

_But her statement lacked heat, possibly because his suggestion had ignited her own powerful conflicting emotions. One, she still wanted him, albeit on her own terms. Scarlett O'Hara had never failed to get the man she wanted, but she had waved a white flag of surrender in his case. And here he came, two years too late, slinking in like a cat in the dark…She hated him! _

"_If you're facing this way, you won't have to even look at me. You can pretend that it's Ashley making love to you rather than your brute of a husband. Of course, Scarlett, we both know that deep down, he could never satisfy your more-primal-needs."_

_At that she bucked, and caught him off guard. Sliding halfway off of her, he was forced to release one of her arms. She rolled onto her side and rammed her elbow in the direction of his bare chest, but he gripped her other arm firmly and pulled her back. She fell backwards and landed on top of him, and immediately he wrapped his arms tightly around her, crossing her own arm over her belly. __Shamefully, she took some pleasure at this display of his strength…but she wasn't helpless in the new position. She struck his shin hard with the heel of her shoe, and the back of her head hit him hard in the jaw. With a low growl of pleasure, he moved her so that she lay underneath him again, but she was able to grab a fistful of his hair. She had ambitions of yanking out every single strand, and would have gladly tried to do so if she had not inadvertently pulled his head toward hers. _

_She felt the anger melt away as their lips met. It transferred instead into something-what had he called it-primitive? It was out of Scarlett's control. The passion rose, rose, and rose…_

_His grip tightened on her, and his hands found her breasts and freed them from the constraining bodice of her gown, laying claim to her lips then moving downward. She could feel a hard pressure within her core, built up over two long years of wanting him but being denied. He dragged her skirt up to her thighs and pressed hard there as she wrapped her arms around his neck. She could feel his hands traveling beneath her underclothes as the delicious sensation of skin on skin nearly made her scream in pure, unadulterated ecstasy. He rose and pulled her onto his lap, allowing her to position herself atop him, lowering herself until he was deep inside. Up and down he guided her back and forth in the age-old rhythm, her nails digging deep into his shoulders. _

"_Jesus, Scarlett!" he moaned, "How is it that you drive a man so wild?" _

_She felt herself shudder, again and again, in pleasure and in pain and he let out a satisfied cry as he came within her. Then, as fast as it began, it ended, and he suddenly shot off the bed and exited the room in all his naked glory, leaving her as dazed and confused as she had been the night of Ashley's birthday party… _


	13. Chapter 13

_Chapter 13: The Fire_

_Dear Ella, _

_I miss you and Joe already. I've only been at school a few weeks now, but I must confess that all of the days seem to all run together in a blur. I spend a great deal of time reading, and I've found myself working well into the evening most nights on my assignments. But I don't mind so much; rather, I'm quite glad to have a lot to do to take my mind off of things. I fear so much for Papa's health. He seemed so very tired during the holidays, as if the slightest exertion took all of his strength. And the night that I left, he cried, Ella, and I could feel my heart breaking…_

"Melly?"

"Who is it?" Melly called irritably from her desk.

"Its Edelyn and Josepha. We wanted to know what you were doing and if you wanted to go to dinner with us."

Melly pushed her unfinished letter to the side and stood up. Edelyn and Josepha. Edelyn-and-Josepha. EdelynandJosepha as though they were one person. She knew that Josepha Butler Ravenel had more in common with Edelyn than she did, but really, did the two of them _ever_ separate? The thought of her former best friend's defection to the new girl brought a sudden cruel stab of jealously to Melly's attention, and she did her best to cast it aside. Managing a smile, she opened her door and invited them inside. Josepha was wearing a wildly flowered jacket that would have looked ridiculous on anyone else but her. Melly had to smile, imagining the look on her mother's face if she saw the other girl's colorful attire.

"We thought we'd try the darling little café down Bay Street tonight," Edelyn informed her, "It's the really the quaintest little place. I'm told that the owners are newly arrived from France. Isn't that divine? I do miss French food."

"Oh yes, there is no substitute, why, Mother and I went to Paris last summer with Uncle Rhett, and I hope to go back as soon as possible, if only for the cuisine. And the wine. And the fashion. And the men…" Josepha smirked, then turned to Melly, "So, I understand that you're interested in Mason Kershaw. Are you?"

Melly drew in her breath sharply. Edelyn was harmless enough, but Josepha…Josepha had a mouth that could make a sailor blush, and she was free with her gossip. It wouldn't do for all of the young ladies to know that she was interested in Mason. That is, _if_ she was. He had made no further effort to contact her since the chance meeting at the Fernandina Carnival, and frankly, she had been so caught up with worry for her father, she hadn't even thought that much about Mason Kershaw.

"I barely know Mr. Kershaw," she began, then was cut off by Edelyn.

"That's not true, Melly, you told me that you liked him. And he came to see you over holidays, so I'm sure that he admires you as well."

Melly's eyes fixed Edelyn with a reproachful look, and Josepha crowed. "Oh, so you're the reason he went to Florida. Well, well. You're quite the little sly boots. But you know, Melly, he's got a terrible reputation. He's a friend of my uncle though, so I'd be glad to put in a good word for you."

Melly shook her head. "That's quite alright. Thank you, though." Desperately, she tried to move the conversation away from herself. "So, how are you liking Saint Vincent's so far, Josepha?"

The other girl shrugged. "Well, it's an improvement over being at home. Even if it is right down the street. I wish that Mother would have let me go somewhere exciting like New York or Philadelphia. I want to be an actress, you know."

Melly did know that, Josepha had made no secret of her unladylike ambitions. Again Melly was consumed with envy. How wonderful it must be to not care at all for the opinions of others, not to be ruled by the rigid social mores of which Melly herself was always conscientious.

"I hope to be invited to your first play," Melly managed to choke out. It seemed to satisfy Josepha, who whirled in front of Melly's full length mirror and declared, "I will be good."

"And I will be married to your brother by then, so I'll be in the front row," Edelyn giggled.

"I thought that it was Wade you'd set your sights on," Melly raised an eyebrow.

"Oh," Edelyn waved her hand dismissively, "I prefer Ravenel to Hamilton for my last name."

"Melanie Kershaw," Josepha tried it out. "I don't like it. Of course, you do know that's not his real name, don't you? His mother was a, well, a loose woman. So, he had to change it in order to be accepted into college. Uncle Rhett gave him his middle name, wasn't that kind of him?"

"You make it seem as though your Uncle Rhett can walk on water," Melly said wryly.

"Just about," Josepha agreed. "Well, come on, Edelyn. Melly isn't going to come with us."

"Fine, study your little heart out," Edelyn teased.

"We'll be on Bay Street," Josepha called from the hallway. "If you decide to join us, you're more than welcome."

"I think I'll stay in." Before she closed the door, her eyes swept over the other two girls, arms interlocked and heads together, no doubt whispering about her. The word 'us' irked her most of all, as she had no desire to sit politely and listen and laugh as the two of them discussed whatever it was that they found so fascinating. Melly had never been able to dismiss totally the feeling of being always on display, regarded as a curiosity. But she was hungry…

Bathing quickly, she changed into a red ankle-length dress with a matching jacket, accented by her Christmas present, a lovely gold locket on a chain, and slipped her feet into dainty satin slippers that were hardly practical for January, but far more fashionable than those worn by either Josepha or Edelyn. Appraising herself once more in the full-length mirror, Melly presumed herself ready, and hurried down the stairs, pausing only to warm her fingers next to the roaring fireplace in the foyer. It wasn't terribly cold out, but the fire was a nice touch.

Feeling better, Melly decided that she would say hello to Maureen and Pauline and the rest of the cousins. It was a weeknight, so surely the pub wouldn't be too terribly crowded with patrons. As she walked down the street in the midst of all the finely dressed couples, Melly felt that familiar pang of jealousy at their happiness and tried to envision Mason standing next to her. So that isn't even his real name, she ran over Josepha's words in her head. Josepha's Uncle Rhett had to be Rhett Butler, the same Rhett Butler who was Mason's boon companion and her mother's former husband. It was a tangled web, and it seemed to Melly that things couldn't get any more confusing. Right now, all she wanted was a bite to eat in a place devoid of tension and unpleasantness and mindless chatter.

The O'Hara's rose to the occasion. To Melly's arch relief, Pauline was occupied with a young man at a corner table, with whom she was chattering animatedly, so she was able to slip in without the usual fanfare.

"You look fetchin' in that dress, darlin'," Maureen O'Hara said as she sat a piping hot plate of Irish stew in front of Melly, who tore into it with gusto. "A real beaut'. But why haven't you a nice fellow yet?"

Melly blushed. "I've been very busy with my studies."

Maureen nodded understandingly. "Well, I'll tell you, I've a few patrons who've been interested in you, m'dear. That one in particular, see?"

"Oh!" Melly said in surprise as she saw who Maureen had pointed out. "That's Sean. We've spoken several times. I'm sure that he's just being courteous."

"Oh no. 'Tis a man of substance behind those fine Irish eyes and that lovely voice. He'll be fine husband to any lass that can catch him. Shall I tell him you're here, say hello?"

"Alright then," Melly sighed as Maureen trotted eagerly up to the bar, interrupting the ongoing conversation between Sean and her husband Jamie. He was attractive, what with that thick head of fair hair, that broad grin, and those bright, snapping blue eyes; she'd never really noticed before. Not that she'd had a cause to notice his looks, because he had always treated her as a younger sister rather than an available young woman. He was mannerly and considerate and friendly, and had never once done or said anything even remotely flirtatious-not like Mason, that much was certain.

"Well, well, Miss Melly. Sure and that's a wonder! I thought not to be seein' you till the weather warmed up some."

She smiled up at him. "I was hungry and tired of studying."

"And what do the good sisters teach you over there?" he returned the smile and took the seat opposite her.

"Well, we study religion of course, and the modern languages. My favorite is philosophy."

"What sort of philosophizing do you do, then?"

"Well, I don't do much-" she paused as she beheld his laughing eyes. "You're teasing me! What, you think that women shouldn't be educated in the same disciplines as men are?"

"I wouldn't know, Miss Melly. I've not an education to me name."

"Really?" she said with genuine surprise. "You're remarkably well spoken for a p-" Recognizing her blunder, she covered her mouth, which triggered another outburst of laughter from him.

"Poor Irish peasant?" Sean cocked an eyebrow. "No need to be embarrassed, Miss Melly, 'tis just the truth. Didja think I'd be offended?"

"I am sorry," she said sincerely. "I do try to be cognizant of certain things and I'm afraid that I always fail dismally. My Papa has a certain way about him in which every word out of his mouth is appropriate, and I wish that I could do the same."

"You've nothing to be worried about, Miss Melly. So, tell me about your holiday."

"Oh, it was fine. Well, not fine, exactly. I'm afraid that my Papa isn't well and we're all a bit on edge as a result, but we had a lovely Carnival Thanksgiving week. Have you ever been to a Carnival, Sean? It's a masquerade ball. But Mason Kershaw was there, oh, you don't know him, but he is charming. He's an architect from-well-I'm not exactly sure where he's from. I'm not really sure of anything about him, come to think of it. But the Carnival, well, it's a fundraiser for our roller skating club in Fernandina, have you ever roller-skated?"

Laughing, Sean replied. "Nope, I've not. 'Tis not but a poor Irishman I am."

"Oh, don't! You're making me feel bad."

"Well, 'tis a good thing. Now that you think that you've offended me, I'm figurin' that means you'll think that you owe me a favor."

"Oh really? And whatever might that be?" Melly was taken aback by his change in tone. His voice was cooler and lower, with a huskiness to it that she had heard very clearly when he sang.

Keeping his eyes fixed on hers, he leaned toward her, and she knew full well that she should tell him to lean back in his chair rather than the way he was, as though he was trying to see into the back of her skull. And yet, she didn't. The attention was nice, for one thing, and Melly had noticed the admiring leers that Sean was getting from the older women in the pub, Pauline included. Certainly the women were all older than she, but many were still becoming and young enough to appreciate a good-looking man, and Sean was, undeniably, very good-looking. No one had looked particularly envious when she had danced with Mason at the Charleston ball, and it had been too dark at the Carnival for anyone to have noticed his looks. But still, it was nice to be envied!

"So," she said, attempting to reign in the tendency of her voice to go higher than normal, "tell me more about Ireland, Sean…and your family. What about your holiday?"

"No," he shook his head, "I've told you enough about meself. What about you? Have you always lived in Florida? Where else have you traveled? 'Tis everything I want to know."

His chin was propped up on his elbow, improperly resting on the table. "What do you like to do for fun? What's your favorite color? What music do you like, aside from me own, o' course…What 'tis that you're studying so hard for and what 'tis you'd like to do after you're done studying here. Finally, why 'tis that you're so enamored with a lad you know not a thing in the world about."

Melly gasped, staring up at him with horror. His questions were innocently posed of course, and she would have gladly answered the first few of them. But this was too bold, too probing. She felt almost violated by it, as much as she had when he had assumed that Rhett Butler was her father. And yet, she needed to talk to someone about it, someone closer to her own age that wasn't her brother or sister. Who better than Sean? After all, he was in no way connected to Mason Kershaw, or anyone in society for that matter. Perhaps he could tell her what to do, how to proceed. Glancing quickly around the room to ascertain that their conversation was private, she leaned in closer to him and began, "Well, its all very complicated…"

After dinner, Sean insisted upon walking Melly back to Saint Vincent's. "O'course, 'tis true that you might be a wee bit embarrassed on the arm of a humble musician like meself. In front 'a all the grand ladies."

"Not at all," Melly laughed, "and if you thought that I would be, you aren't nearly as smart as I gave you credit for. It was just the opposite. I'd love for them to see me with someone else, just to distract them from the idea of Mason. See there at the window? Josepha and Edelyn are probably watching like hawks."

"So 'tis using me you are!" he feigned a hurt look, and yet, for a moment she saw a genuine hint of dullness in his shining eyes. "Well then, if a show is what they want, then a show they shall get!" And in one swift, sure move, he reached out and took Melly in his arms and lifted her chin, and before she could utter a word of protest, he kissed her soundly on the lips.

There was no time to object, no chance at all for Melly to raise her defenses. Although she felt a perverse sense of pleasure at imagining the shocked squeals of the other girls undoubtedly watching from above, there was a distinctly separate sensation within her very body, sending a tingle to the tips of her toes.

Abruptly the kiss ended, and Sean turned his attention to something behind Melly's shoulder.

"He's been a'watchin' us since we've been here," he muttered.

Some part of Melly felt disappointed, but she turned around and indeed, the figure caught her eye as well. A gentleman, had to be…perhaps her father's age, perhaps older; it was difficult to tell in the dark…but there was something familiar about his shoulders, or perhaps it was his manner of walking. Regardless, he opened the gate he was standing next to and apparently entered the house.

Melly shrugged, then blushed as she met Sean's eyes, his attention now fully returned to her.

"Sorry, Miss Melly," Sean murmured. "I should have asked you first if it was fine with you. But I wasn't thinkin'…"

"I know, Sean," Melly said quickly, not wanting him to think her naïve.

They stood there in silence for a few minutes, both not knowing what else to say about the incident. It had happened and it had been very exciting, but it had clearly been meant as a joke, and it was over now. It was best that Melly should forget it, and fast.

Her voice sugary sweet, she said, "Goodnight then, Mr. McGinnis."

"Good night to you, Miss Melly," Sean said quietly, standing still as he saw her up the gravel pathway and safely to the door. As for Melly, she walked dully up the staircase and back to her room, oblivious to the peels of laughter coming from the parlor, hearing none of it because she was thinking about a pair of fine Irish eyes…

Melly awoke suddenly to the sound of a multitude of church bells clamoring furiously. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she hastened to the window to locate the source of the commotion. Seeing nothing toward town or toward the harbor, she assumed simply that it was nothing serious and turned around to return to bed. Then, she beheld the fire trucks rounding the corner. Another fire? Not in Savannah, not so soon after bad one over the summer! But this one had to be close… She pushed her window open and stuck her head out to better see the trucks' destination. The tall peak of the St. Vincent's steeple was plainly visible and burning freely.

Losing no time, Melly pulled on a pair of boots and pulled her hem up to her knees, knowing full well that the blaze would reach the dormitory in a matter of moments if it was not contained. The other girls were in their nightdresses too, all standing in the hallway, sweat streaming down their faces. There was smoke coming from downstairs!

Josepha and Edelyn were already dressed, along with Sophia Laurence and Jane Hampton. A few of the younger girls were sobbing, and Melly scrambled them to attention.

"Come on!" Melly ordered. "We need to get out, right now. Come!"

"But our things?" Edelyn cried, "What if they should be destroyed?"

"What about ourselves?" Melly said, "come on, hurry up!"

The twenty odd girls walked single file out of the dormitory and to the courtyard, where they had a birdseye view of the effort to save the church. Melly noticed that several of her O'Hara cousins had joined in the bucket brigade, and she wondered for a moment if Sean was among them. Even she could tell that the steepness of the roof would make it impossible to save, despite their best efforts. Some of the men were removing furniture and other valuables from the sacristy and the administration building of the school. Madame de la Tour looked bewildered in her aquamarine silk dressing gown, clearly not knowing what she was supposed to do.

The priests' newly built cottage, completed within the past three months as well as Melly's own dormitory were the next to fall victims to the fire. If the dormitory was not saved, then the rest of the block would be doomed. The convent would be in serious danger as well.

Men were scrambling on top of the dormitory, the fire illuminating their soot-blackened faces. Exhausted, they struggled on, the water supply dwindling. Melly put her hand over her mouth at the sight of the church, blazing like an inferno, when suddenly, Edelyn grabbed her arm. "Josepha's gone back inside, Melly! I told her not to! Her grandmother's earrings, she had to save them she said!"

"Oh my God!" Melly cried, turning at once for the burning dormitory.

"Melly, no!"

"She won't know how to get out! Stay here, Edelyn!" Melly called behind her, already taking off toward the building. Luckily the walls had held out, but still, she cautiously kicked the door with the corner of her boot. The wooden stairwell was burning already and she tiptoed up the stairs, praying that they would hold long enough for her to find Josepha. The other girl was crouched in the corner of the hall, a jewelry box clutched in her hand.

"Josepha!" Melly screamed. "Come on, we've got to get out of here!"

Josepha was frozen, her eyes widened in horror and her lips forming Our Father's in steady succession. Melly darted through the hallway and found a discarded shawl, which she tossed to Josepha.

"Take my hand and don't look at it! Come on!"

Josepha followed tentatively, then did as Melly said, taking her hand and allowing her to guide her down the stairs and toward the open front door. The thin lines of flames were creeping across the walls as they leapt up from the carpeted parlor, multiplying at an alarming rate.

"My jewelry box!" Josepha cried, casting one last miserable glance at the blaze above.

"Leave it!" Melly pushed her toward the door, then screamed as the wall made a hissing noise, then collapsed, a shower of hot ash blinding her.

"Melly!" Josepha screamed, "I'll get help! Help! Help!"

Melly was too numb to move, her arms aching, and fresh blisters on her hands open and bleeding. It couldn't be the end, not here. Not like this. She had to get up, she had to. But she heard a cry ring out from outside. The walls were all caving in. It was the end. "Papa, Mother, I love you," she whispered. Then, everything around her went black, a whirlwind of smoke and darkness…

_**NB: Apologies for another cliffhanger... I've said this before, but I really, really, really appreciate the feedback SO MUCH! Thank you to everyone who has read/reviewed/subscribed/favorited... The feedback has been great, and I always look so forward to hearing what you guys think. ~The Scarlett Starlet_


	14. Chapter 14

_Chapter 14: Revelation _

"Where did this fire start?" Rosemary asked the doctor as he tended the girl, bandaging both of her hands and wicked looking burn on her leg.

"It seems that a spark from the chimney in the girls' school must be the cause. We'll know more later, I am sure," the doctor answered. "Right now it's most important that the little girl rests. I'm going to give you an elixir and some extra liniment to put on those burns, Mrs. Rouzan. And I'll come by first thing in the morning to check on her. I'm afraid that I must be leaving; there were several other men who also needed medical attention this evening. The young man who pulled her out, has he already gone?"

"He has, and I don't know where he went," Rosemary shook her head. "I too wanted to thank him again personally. My husband offered him a reward and he said that he wanted none. Nor recognition, either. He simply said that he was a friend of Melly's and that he'd say a rosary this night for her speedy recovery."

"Extraordinary," the doctor replied, then turned toward Rhett, who stood at the doorway with his arms crossed. "Are you the father, sir?"

Rhett blinked, startled by the question, then quickly corrected the good doctor. "No. I simply am well acquainted with the girl's parents."

The doctor nodded. "Well, Miss Josepha said that she owes her life to Miss Melly here. It seems that these young people certainly have proven their mettle this evening. Not to mention the brave Irishmen who fought the blaze. Without their untiring labor and endeavors, the convent would surely have been destroyed as well, not to mention the many other buildings that would have suffered worse ruin. Your own home for one, Mrs. Rouzan."

Rosemary nodded. "Indeed, we have much to be thankful for, Doctor."

She put her arm around her sooty and bedraggled brother as the doctor exited, giving him a quick hug. "Thank God you're alright, Rhett. I couldn't believe my eyes as I watched the fire. I just didn't expect you to take off for it like that."

"I'm just glad that I got close enough to hear Josepha's cries. I would have been too late to go after Melly myself, though. Thankful doesn't even begin to describe my relief that the boy got there first."

Rosemary looked hard at him, her eyes shrewdly appraising his emotions. "Why do you say that?"

Rhett shrugged. "I don't think that I would have been strong enough to face Scarlett with the news that her child had been lost. Not this one."

"For someone who professes his apathy towards the woman so vehemently, you seem mighty relieved that you were spared the writing of that particular letter."

"Rose. Look at me. I would have to be worse than callous to rejoice in Scarlett's misery. She's already lost a child, if you'll recall."

"I recall, Rhett. I lost a niece too, that day. And I know that you've carried Bonnie's death in your heart like an anchor since she passed, but something's happened to you since you returned from Florida, Rhett. I knew seeing her would do it to you. And you did. I've seen you pace around town every morning and every night, brother. You've watched over this child like a hawk since she's been back to school. And I know you forbade Mason from seeing her. Tell me I'm wrong, go ahead, but I do believe that I know you better than anyone else in the world."

"I merely advised the boy that it would be inappropriate for him to pursue such a young child. It had nothing to do with who she was."

"Oh really? I recall you drawing no such objections when he was flirting with Josepha. Your own niece may flirt freely with him, but Scarlett's daughter cannot? Unless…"

"What?"

"Unless you have recently been made aware of something which should have been obvious long ago."

"I don't take your meaning."

Rosemary sighed. "Never you mind, brother. Go downstairs and sit with your nieces and nephews and reassure them that all is well."

"What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to give her a quick, tepid bath like the doctor said."

"You don't need help?"

Again she looked at him with a mixed expression of bemusement and irritation. "You can check on her in a few minutes."

The feel of the woman's cool hand awoke Melly from her dark, dreamless slumber. Her body felt stiff and refused to turn over, every muscle screaming out in agony. Her hands were heavily bandaged, and she was unable to use them to push up into a sitting position.

"Hello, Melly," the woman smiled. Melly thought that she looked like she had walked out of the pages of _Harper's Weekly_, her dress a creation of ice blue, tight at her tiny waist and a froth of white lace at her throat. "I'm Rosemary Rouzan. I'm Josepha Ravenel's mother, and I can't even begin to express my gratitude to you. You are the bravest young woman I've ever had the privilege of meeting. Josepha is downstairs, and Edelyn too. They were terribly frightened and worried for you."

"Is everybody alright?" Melly asked, her voice hoarse. "No one was seriously hurt?"

"Not to my knowledge. Will it hurt you terribly if I help you to sit up? No? Alright, easy now. That's a good girl."

Rosemary reached behind Melly and lifted her as she swung her legs over the side of the bed.

"God's nightgown, but my body aches!" Melly cried.

Rosemary laughed richly at her comment, unwrapping the bandages, cleaning and treating the wounds with the liniment then rewrapping the burns.

"The doctor was here just now. He says that the leg would isn't as serious, but your face looks like you've got an awful sunburn and your pretty hair is singed. I can have Josepha and Edelyn come upstairs, if you'd like to see them."

Melly glanced at her reflection in the oval mirror which hung on the wall across from the bed and shuddered. "I shouldn't want any visitors, Mrs. Rouzan. I'm afraid that I may frighten them."

Again Rosemary laughed. "You don't look any worse for the wear than any of the others. The young man who rescued you was completely soot-blackened from head to toe."

"Do you know his name, Mrs. Rouzan? I owe him my life and I'd dearly like to thank him." Melly said.

Rosemary shrugged. "I'm afraid I don't. He left before the doctor could examine him, that and his face was so covered in soot, I doubt that I'd recognize him if he were before me."

Melly sighed. "Well, I suppose that I'll just think of him as my guardian angel, then."

"Very much so, sweetheart," Rosemary said softly, wiping the girl's face with a warm washcloth. "My goodness, Melly, look at those dark eyes. Black as coal. You must have gotten them from your father, for I recall your mother's green eyes exactly."

Melly shook her head politely. "My Papa has grey eyes, like the ocean on a cloudy day.

"Ah," Rosemary said, as though some sort of suspicion had been confirmed within her own mind, but Melly was too tired to notice it overmuch and said nothing, sinking down into the plush pillow as Rosemary finished her ministrations.

"Are you comfortable, Melly?"

"Yes ma'am. The pain sort of numbs itself after awhile."

"That'll be the elixir the doctor left. I assume that it'll make you sleepy. But that's good, you need to rest more than anything."

A knock sounded upon the door, startling Rosemary.

Rhett peeked inside, as though he was uncertain if he should be there or not.

"Captain Butler?" Melly called out from the bed, drowsiness heavy in her voice. "Is that you?"

"Indeed, Miss Melly," Rhett stepped inside the room and nodded his head. "I've been hearing tales of your heroism for most of the evening. My niece is still singing your praises…as she should, of course, she'd not be with us without your quick thinking. My hat goes off to you."

Melly smiled weakly. "I believe that in the future I'll leave the fire fighting to the Hook & Ladder Company. Sitting behind a desk putting pen to paper doesn't exactly condition one to run in and out of blazing buildings."

Rhett laughed a deep bear of a laugh at her comment. "Perhaps you can induce the good sisters at Saint Vincent's to modify the curriculum, Miss Melly, to better equip you young ladies in how to handle situations which require great acts of valor."

Melly shook her head. "I've had quite enough tonight, Captain Butler. But really, it was nothing. They would have done the same for me."

"Indeed," Rhett said contemplatively, stroking his chin.

"Come brother," Rosemary said, gathering her skirts and rising from the edge of Melly's bed. "Let's let Melly get some rest, shall we?"

Rhett nodded in agreement and followed his sister out of the bedroom. She shut the door tightly behind her, then faced him.

"Do not insult my intelligence and tell me that you don't _know_."

"Know what, Rosemary?"

"You know what I mean."

"The last time I checked, clairvoyance was not included in my list of talents; however, I'll do my best. Perhaps you're referring to tonight's dinner menu, let me think here, St. James's Custard for desert, surely…and boiled shrimp, lots of it."

"Rhett!" Rosemary interrupted. "Rhett. Answer me this, and do try to be serious. What are grey-eyed Ashley and green-eyed Scarlett doing with a black-eyed daughter?"

Rhett shrugged. "Bonnie had blue eyes; neither of us did."

He took Rosemary's arm as they began the descent down the grand staircase. "What are you saying, Rose? Surely you're not inferring that Melly doesn't belong to Scarlett…"

"Of course not. I can see Scarlett in her somewhere. But surely you can-Rhett-you're not blind!"

"Can I see Scarlett, you mean? Not really. I do see a great deal of Ashley though. Look at her behavior tonight for instance. Plunging into a burning building to save a classmate she barely knows…"

"She saved your niece, Rhett. You could sound a little more grateful."

"I am grateful, Rosemary, I was just giving you an example, that's all."

Rosemary sighed heavily as they met Josepha, pacing at the bottom of the stairs wringing her hands.

"How is she?" Josepha cried.

"She's much better, dear," Rosemary replied.

"Oh thank God! Uncle Rhett, are you alright? You look a bit peaked."

"It's alright, Josepha, he's just been confronted with something unpleasant." Rosemary reached out for her daughter to come closer. "Come here, Josie. Let us look at you. That high forehead, those red lips of yours. That swarthy skin that we Butler women have been cursed with for five generations…"

Josepha smiled slightly. "Am I being appraised, Mother?"

"Don't worry about it, dear," Rosemary kissed her daughter. "Go see what Cookie has made up for us to eat. Go on, now," she gently shooed Josepha, who walked toward the kitchen.

"Why Rhett, your face _is _white as a ghost."

His hands were visibly trembling, the gravity of Rosemary's subtle accusation sinking in for the first time. It couldn't be, not in a million years. The timing was wrong for one, or was it? The years had done their terrible dance in such quick succession after Bonnie had died, he scarcely knew how long it had been.

"You're wrong, Rose. You think you're mighty clever, but you're wrong about that."

"Rhett Kershaw Butler, I thought from the moment I first saw that child that she looked strangely familiar and not just because of Scarlett. I've only laid eyes on the woman a handful of times in my life, after all. Pauline Robillard thought so too and told me in confidence that she does not resemble Ashley Wilkes in the slightest. Furthermore, I am a woman and I know damn well that Scarlett would not have fallen in love with another man after you. Do you understand that? Come down off of your high horse for five moments and see it. She's your daughter, Rhett, I'd bet any sum of money in the world on it."

"No."

"Yes, Rhett. Why won't you see it? How can you not see that she's you in miniature, a purer, more perfect copy."

"No, goddamn it, no!"

"Miz Rosemary?" a rotund black maid outfitted in a grey dress and a starched white apron and cap entered the foyer hesitantly. "Ah's sorry to 'sturb you, Miz Rosemary and Mist' Rhett, but Miz Pauline Robillard's just got here and's actin' like ter faint in the kitchen. Ah's tole her you's up with Miz Melly."

"I'll be right there, Annie, and thank you," Rosemary nodded, then turned upon Rhett, frustration heavy in her voice. "You know, Rhett, I've always admired you for the immense pride you have in yourself, but I beg you, open your eyes this once. Think on it, Rhett. For your own sake."

Rhett shook his head vehemently, then sank down and sat on the step, holding his head in his hands.

Rosemary flew down the hall to the kitchen to greet the elder Miss Robillard, thinking that for once the odor of boiling shrimp was like sweet perfume; after all, anything was better than the smell of burning buildings.

"Rosemary!" Pauline stood up from her chair with hands extended, which she then placed upon Rosemary's shoulders as she reached her. There were tears rolling down the elder's cheeks.

Returning to her chair before speaking, Pauline sighed heavily. "I don't know how to say this, Rosemary, but say it I must."

"Oh Pauline, dear. It's alright. Melly's going to be fine. The doctor's already left for the evening and he said that she'll be good as new."

"Oh!" Pauline said, flustered. "I knew that Melly was alright, thank Heaven. Madame de la Tour came to my home instantly after it happened and reassured me that she was safe. It's just that, oh Rosemary, it's horrible. But I must just have out with it. When will she be able to travel?"

"Not for several days at least…but why, Pauline? The headmistress assured me that classes would resume in a few days, once they find a building in which to accommodate the young ladies."

"No, no, Rosemary. Melly won't be returning to school, not right away at least."

"What is it, Pauline?" Rosemary frowned, "you must tell me."

Pauline handed Rosemary a crumpled telegram, which the younger woman read hurriedly, then let out a dejected sigh.

"No. Poor child. Poor, poor child. Stay here, Pauline. I need to speak with Rhett about it. I'll see what he can arrange."

Pauline nodded as she sank back into a nearby chair, her eyes darting back to the telegram that Rosemary had left sitting on the kitchen table.

_Aunt Pauline. Please make arrangements for Melly to return home ASAP _STOP_ Ashley dying. Please do not alarm her._ STOP _All my love, Scarlett _

_****NB: As always, I look forward to your thoughts! Thank you, thank you, thank you, for all of the encouragement. ~The Scarlett Starlet_


	15. Chapter 15

_**NB**__: My dear readers, I hope that you have stocked up on Kleenex. Yes, the NB is on top because this chapter contains a character death. I admit it, I cried too. Happy [or not so happy] reading! ~The Scarlett Starlet_

* * *

><p><em>Chapter 15: Ashley's Farewell <em>

_Suddenly breaking loose from Ashley's grasp, little Ella ran to the high four-poster bed, climbed onto the small stool and slipped onto the pillow beside her mother. _

"_She's so pretty lying down," Ella remarked, tears trickling down her cheeks. _

_Ashley sighed again, moving to extricate the child from her hold on Scarlett. Ella had formed a remarkable bond with the mother who had always ignored her in the past, and was unflinching in her devotion these days. Bless the child, Ashley thought to himself. Scarlett did look pretty lying there, verily like an angel, her long black hair spreading out across the pillow and down across one slender arm. _

"_Mother, Mother…" Ella said, gently placing little kisses on Scarlett's brow while trying to wake her from the drug-induced sleep she had been in since Doctor Meade had announced that she had given birth to a healthy, black-haired little girl. _

_Scarlett's green eyes fluttered open and Ella clapped her hands and chortled gleefully. "See, Uncle Ashley? You see? Mother's going to be alright."_

"_I never had any doubt, Ella." Ashley smiled. "Your Mother has in her little finger more strength than most men possess in their entire bodies. But there is one matter still to be settled."_

"_What's that, Uncle Ashley?" Ella asked inquisitively, still grasping her mother's hand tightly. _

"_Well, Ella Lorena. You have a baby sister, and I think we should settle on a name for her."_

"_I like Madeline!" Ella exclaimed. "Or Sophia or Elizabeth or Clarice."_

"_Clarice?" Scarlett smiled weakly, "We are not naming the baby after your doll, Ella Lorena. Go play with Beau and Wade Hampton now. Tell them that their baby sister's name is Melly."_

_Ella's grin shone brightly on her small face. "Melly! Of course, for Aunt Melly. I think she'd be pleased, don't you, Uncle Ashley?"_

_Scarlett's beseeching eyes looked up into his, and he said with great seriousness. "I think that she would be pleased indeed."_

"_Thank you, Ashley," Scarlett murmured. "Thank you." _

Thinking about the past did nothing to lift Scarlett's spirits. It was almost more than she could bear, watching him slowly slipping away. He could not eat, no matter what she offered and no matter how hard she pleaded for him to do so. She sat down gently on the bed and began to stroke Ashley's hair and arms, uttering tender words and silent prayers to God or whoever would listen to take this away from him, to bring him back to the way he used to be. Mammy and Beau stood just behind her, and she dreaded the moment when Beau would say, "It's time."

Ashley's eyes opened, exerting a flicker of life in them. Hope beyond hope swelled in Scarlett's chest.

"I was dreaming," he said. "I was walking on the beach. It smelled like spices." He coughed again, blood spewing from his mouth as his entire body convulsed.

"Tell me, Ashley." Scarlett said calmly. "Tell me about your dream."

He winced in pain, yet his eyes were dancing with joy. "I saw Melly. I saw Melly in a pure white silken dress, with flowers in her hair. She's standing on the beach, surrounded by palm trees. And close beside her is a man. He looks as proud as he can be. He's all dressed in white linen and a straw hat. She's so happy, Scarlett. So very happy."

Scarlett felt a sharp pang of panic as she realized the gravity of his words. He thought that he was dying and he was reassuring himself that Melly would be alright without him. In anguish, she cried, "It was a dream, Ashley, darling. Just a dream. You have to keep talking to me. Melly needs you to keep talking to me."

"It was real, Scarlett. She was truly happy and I must be happy for her. You must be happy for her too. Promise me that, please…"

"Don't you say goodbye to me, Ashley. Not now. You have to wait. Melly's on the way, Ashley. I sent a telegram to Aunt Pauline. She's going to be here tomorrow on the train. You can't leave her. You can't."

"Promise me something else. I asked you before."

"What is it, Ashley?"

"Rhett. Tell her."

"Rhett?"

"She needs him, Scarlett. So do you."

"I don't need him, Ashley. Besides that, Ashley, he doesn't love me. He never has. He's incapable of feeling anything anymore."

"I watched him dance with you, Scarlett. The man loves you. Still."

"I don't know how, Ashley."

"Not everything needs explanation or understanding in this world in which we live…love for instance. You and I have both known love. And loss. But you have a chance, Scarlett. My dear. Promise me that…"

She leaned close to his lips to hear his words. "Yes, Ashley?"

"Promise me that you'll try…"

Across the county, Melly was glancing up at the sky from her carriage window. She had never seen so many stars, shining down like beacons lighting their path. If only they would help the horses to go faster. If the coachman would just push the beasts harder…

Still, even the stars did not reassure her, nor did Rhett's calm, matter-of-fact words. He was certain that they would arrive before sunrise. She felt no such certainty. The stars were fixed in the same spots they had been the last time she looked. Melly found the jostling of the carriage ride uncomfortable, and her burned leg and hands were throbbing. She shuddered with each bump in the gravel road, finally, her head resting on Rhett's shoulder, attempted to fall asleep. Please, please, please, Melly prayed to herself, please don't let me be too late to say goodbye.

"It's going to be alright, Melly. I promise you that. Your Papa is going to be just fine."

Melly fought to accept Rhett's words. After all, he was a man of the world; if he said that her father would recover, then he would. They were so close, just outside Fernandina! If they could only go faster…

They reached the town at dawn, and pulled up at the house at half past five in the morning. Her lips were white with anxiety. Every lamp was lit in the place.

Other women were on the porch, praying aloud, her aunts Honey and India. If they noticed her presence, they said nothing, and Melly walked wordlessly into the house, momentarily forgetting that Rhett was standing directly behind her.

"Ella!" Melly rushed to her sister, who was clinging to her husband.

"Baby girl!" Ella hugged her tightly. "Oh my God. I thought the train would never come."

"Hey there, honey," Joe pinched Melly's cheek. "You're lookin' pretty singed."

Melly tried to form a smile. "I fight fires now."

"I heard that," Joe replied. "Thank the good Lord that you're alright. Man, oh man, I don't think your Ma could take anything else. Not on top of this."

"Joe!" Ella shushed her husband.

"Well, I'm alright," Melly said with more confidence than she felt. "How's Papa doing, Ella? Is he better?"

Ella looked instantly pale and said nothing in reply.

"Why don't you tell her our good news, honey?" Joe broke the silence between them.

"Oh!" Ella attempted cheerfulness. "You're going to be an aunt, Melly. In six months or so, give or take."

"Ella, that's wonderful-but you didn't answer my question."

"He's-your Papa, he's- he's unwell."

"But he's going to get better."

Joe and Ella exchanged worried glances, then Joe put his big hands on Melly's shoulders, "Now, your Pa'd want you to be brave, Melly. He wouldn't want you to be sad."

"No!" Melly shook her head fervently. "No. No he isn't-he's not!"

"Melly, baby," Ella attempted to soothe her.

"No! I want Mother! Where's Mother?"

She fled from Ella and Joe and bounded up the stairs to her mother's room and flung herself on the big bed with the white silk coverlet. It was safe there. It was a refuge for her weary body and her even more weary soul.

Scarlett came in a few moments later, hands visibly shaking, her face stone-white, her mouth set in desperation. Melly knew that she was looking at a mirror image of herself, and yet, her mother never showed emotion in public, certainly never before her. It was bad then, if Scarlett felt no need to try to hide the agony that was apparent in her expression. Tears flowed freely as Melly felt her mother's arms around her.

"Mother?" she half cried. "Papa?"

Her mother looked incredibly small. "Melly, oh baby. He's in his room, he's…"

"He's not…" Melly began hesitantly.

Her mother's eyes filled with tears. "He waited for you, baby."

If only I could stop trembling, Melly thought as she tiptoed across the hall and into the brightly lit room, if I could only stop shaking, perhaps I wouldn't feel so frightened. Beau was standing guard outside, and looked perturbed.

"Don't bring her in here, Scarlett."

"Get out of the way," her mother snapped, pushing Melly forward, then closing the door behind her.

"Papa?" she spoke softly, not wanting to disturb him.

"Melly?" his eyes looked incredibly sad as he smiled up at her. He reached his arm out and weakly pulled her against him. "You're here? You're not a dream?"

"No Papa, no, it's me, Melly. I'm here. Captain Butler brought me."

She thought that his thin lips formed a small smile. "So happy. He's a good man. Melly. Please, send him in. I need, a word. Please."

She nodded in understanding, then asked, "Now, Papa? Do you want me to get him now?"

He put a hand against Melly's cheek and let it linger as his eyes took in her image. "Ah, Melly, how beautiful you are. So…like your mother. She's so strong, Melly. And I see your strength in her."

Melly's heart sank. He no longer thought that he would pull through it, as he had been so sure the year before. He was saying goodbye.

"No, Papa! Try! Don't just give in, Papa. Please."

Ashley Wilkes's white face was still. "I love you. I always will, my Melly."

Tears stung Melly's eyes, and she threw herself onto his chest, holding on as if she could stop him from leaving. A sense of foreboding swooped over her, so overpowering that her legs felt like jelly. She could barely whisper, "I love you, Papa."

Even with the sense of dread filling her, she refused to say the word "Goodbye." It was too final.

"Goodbye," he whispered.

Scarlett had run half a mile down the beach when she finally stopped cold, collapsing in the sand. Her head told her that she was wasting time, she could be sitting with Melly or sleeping off her exhaustion or, worst of all, planning a funeral. Ashley didn't need her anymore. They had said their goodbyes and he was past all hope. But she wouldn't be able to sleep until she knew that his poor labored breathing had finally ceased. She stood up and took in the ocean, and thought it the exact color of his eyes. Like the sea after a storm. She had fallen in love with those eyes, once. And it had cost her everything! Oh Ashley, you can't leave me too. I'm not strong enough to face it on my own!

Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw a figure, unrecognizable from the distance. He was walking unsteadily toward her from the house, and for a moment, she thought it was Wade. His hair was wet and slicked back, away from his finely chiseled face, and his large black overcoat billowed behind him. There was no jauntiness in his step he slowly lumbered through the sand, his right arm outstretched, as though he were making a peace offering…

Scarlett, walking as shakily as he, paused mid-step. His eyes fixed her steadily, as intently as they had all those years ago at Twelve Oaks.

"Rhett?" she whispered. He looked old. His handsome face was grey and drawn, his eyes scarlet rimmed. Scarlett, her own eyes brimming with tears, thought that if she approached him further, he might disappear.

His voice was so hoarse that it barely was recognizable as his own. "I know, Scarlett. I know. Ashley told me everything…"


	16. Chapter 16

_16. Bitter Rivalries and Hard Truths_

The hours rolled by uneventfully for Melly, Joe, Ella, and Wade, who had arrived by train only thirty minutes after Melly herself. They were all much fatigued and anxious for sleep, yet each reminded vigilant, sitting up straight in the high backed chairs around the kitchen table, particularly cognizant of the slightest noise, the wind sweeping through the crevices of the dirt chimney of the house, the popping sounds from the fireplace, the methodical rocking of the chair legs on the floor...To pass the time, Ella began to hum that old familiar hymn, "Nearer My God to Thee".

"Where's Mother?" Wade said softly as she finished.

"She went down to the beach some time ago. Oh Wade, I fear that it's all too much for her to bear," Ella whispered, dabbing her eyes with her husband's handkerchief.

"Nothing's too much for Mother. I promise you, Els. Mother will pull through this just as she always has, you'll see."

The same was true for Melly, who had left the family circle and now stood perfectly erect at the bottom of the stairwell, staring down at her bandaged hands, yet betraying no outward sign of either pain or emotion as she placidly addressed each new arrival as they entered through the front door. Already a sizeable number of people, some family, some townsfolk from Fernandina, had gathered in the large dining area, surrounding the beloved little family in their tender loving care. Suddenly, the bedroom door at the top of the stairs burst open, and Wade rushed forward, grabbing a wildly gesturing and gesticulating Beau by the lapels and shaking him as he babbled.

Here it is, Wade thought with dread as the terror that had plagued him since they had all visited Charleston took over.

"What's wrong, Beau? Beau! Calm down. You hear me?"

Beau appeared not to hear Wade's voice as he brushed him off and continued to walk down the stairs, grasping the handrail for support.

The feeling of dread and doom settled over Melly like an evil monster from her childhood as she met Beau's eyes, his face strained and pale.

Waving his arms toward her, he finally managed to blurt out, "Father. He's dead."

No one in the room dared to breath. Not one soul dared utter a word from the combined shock of his words. Ashley, dead. And his own son, so…cold? Melly's heart felt made of lead. Her limbs shook as she took in Beau's words. Her Papa was dead. Her wonderful, strong, beloved Papa was dead. In Heaven, with the woman who shared her name. It couldn't be possible, she thought to herself. It must be a mistake. Beau's a young doctor, he could have made a mistake.

Time stood still save for the ticking hands of the grandfather clock, which managed to sound out loudly over the silence of the room, where none moved while the terrible sight of Beau Wilkes's glazed eyes slowly penetrated their senses. Wade began to speak to him in a hushed whisper, attempting to pull him out of the room and out of sight, but Beau would not be silenced.

"Ask her!" he was saying loudly. "Ask your mother if you don't believe me! How would you feel, Wade, if it were you?"

"I'd not feel a goddamn thing but grateful I had as many years as you did with your father. Now, sit down, goddamn it, sit!"

"Beau!" Ella ran up to her shaking cousin and attempted to steady his arm. "Listen to us, listen! It won't bring him back, you understand?"

"I will not have it! I won't be cheated."

"Cheated? No one's cheating you out of anything, Beau," Wade's face was distorted in agony. "Look, you'll just make it worse for everyone involved if you do this. Beau! Look at me. Let your father die in dignity."

Beau stood up straight and wrenched his arm out of Ella's grasp, then socked Wade squarely in the jaw. Caught off guard, Wade slumped backwards, and would have toppled over completely had Joe's hulking form not cushioned his fall. Ella let out a little cry, devastated by the scene she was witnessing between her brother and Beau.

"Stop it, Beau! Please, not in front of our friends! Not in front of Melly!"

"I don't want to hear it!" he shrilled. "All my life I've had to accommodate _Melly_! By God, I will not this night!"

Rhett and Scarlett were silent as they walked up from the beach, stopping suddenly at the sounds of a scuffle on the porch and loud voices. Hurrying towards the sound of the commotion, Rhett's eyes found its source, two men grappling with each other. Beau and Wade.

"What does this mean?" Wade was saying.

Then he slumped down on the railing of the porch, running his hands through his hair and wiping his face.

Beau was standing with one foot on the steps and one on the platform in front of the house, his face distorted in anger and pain. Wade remained on the porch. Melly and Ella had followed them out, Joe at their heels. Melly was sobbing, crying, 'no, no, no…'.

Joe grabbed her shoulders firmly, all the while she twisted painfully against him to free herself. "No, Beau, no! Oh, Beau, please! Stop it!" she shrilled.

But the two young men did not heed her, staring each other down, the long rivalry for the affection of their parents breached, and Wade's own mother had been scurrilously slandered by her own stepson. It was an unforgivable sin, even during such a time, even from a family member.

But Beau was too far into his rage to cease so quickly.

"What does all this mean?" he snapped. "It means that for almost fifteen years I've had to live my entire life around _her_. I had to watch my father fall in love with the same goddamn woman he lusted after while my mother was alive. Then, to add insult to injury, she gets him to marry her. While she's carrying another man's child!"

"No!" Ella screamed. "Stop it! Stop!"

Rhett stood frozen, his eyes fixed on Melly, who stood shaking at the doorway as Beau continued his tirade.

"I've been silent for all this time. Grinning and bearing it, watching him love her better than me. You try standing there, Ella, standing there as your father lets out his dying breath, all the while imparting words of love for a child not of his body. She's Rhett Butler's child, plain as day! And my father loved her better than his own flesh and blood!"

Ella fairly flew at Beau, clawing at his face until Joe pulled her back.

"Melly!"

Wade rushed to his youngest sister, who had fallen in a dead faint. "Oh, my God, she heard it all! Is that what you wanted? To ruin her heart? I hope you're satisfied."

Beau vehemently shook his head. "I didn't mean for her to hear it. Before God, I did not!"

Wade paced back and forth across the porch shaking his head in disbelief. "How could you? How?"

At that moment, a murmur went through the crowd, drawing the attention of the pair to the path from the beach as Scarlett moved through the throng of silent friends and neighbors. Many of them reached out to touch her, imparting words of sorrow as she hurried to the side of her fallen child, whose head was resting in Ella's lap.

"What happened?" Rhett said, grasping Wade's shoulder.

"He's lost his mind, is what's happened," Wade jerked his head toward Beau, who had sank to his knees, holding his head in his hands. "He said that Melly - well - what he said was that she…"

Rhett's mouth formed a thin line, his eyes solemn and downcast.

"Ashley told me. About fourteen goddamned years too late."

"What? When?"

"About an hour ago. But my sister seems to have figured it out some time before. And I suppose its my own damn fault for not recognizing the resemblance. I must have known too, deep down, that she was mine. That Scarlett could have never... But I heard that she was married and I thought - I hoped..." His voice trailed off as his hand shook in a series of rapid jerks.

Wade shook his head. "No point, Uncle Rhett. You can't blame yourself. I never asked questions either. Old habit with Mother…don't ask questions. You know?"

"I know. I know. I wanted to strangle him when he told me. I wanted to pound his face into a bloody pulp. A dying man. Can you imagine that?"

Wade said nothing, so Rhett continued.

"He said that I could yell and scream to my heart's content but that she was my flesh and blood and mine alone. That he had never laid a hand on your mother - you know - intimately. And he said that I should love her. Because there's so much of her to love. But that her heart belonged to him, and that I should be kind to his memory. Can you imagine?"

Rhett was shaking, tears brimming in his eyes and falling uncontrollably as his shoulders heaved.

"I can understand that," Wade said slowly. "You've always done the same for me..."

The hours waxed on as the vigil around the house continued. Ella and Joe dutifully handled the callers, while Rhett and Wade prevailed upon Beau to take some laudanum and remove himself to the guest bedroom. Scarlett, for her part, sat stoically beside Melly, holding her hand, speaking softly to her as she lied prostrate over her father's body, sobbing uncontrollably, refusing to leave him.

It was especially heart wrenching for Rhett, numb already with grief, to watch from his vantage point at the doorway. Melly was so like him, in every way, yet she would never be his, as Bonnie was. She would always belong to Ashley. And Scarlett. But it would have been much less complicated if she had gone through life thinking that it was so - that she was Ashley's daughter, and he, Rhett, was a close family friend, just as she always had. That way, he could have loved her from a distance and perhaps, one day, gained a semblance of closeness. But now she would hate him, resent him, punishing him always for Beau's slip.

He sighed and wiped the forgotten tears from his face, consoling himself with Scarlett's old mantra: at least there was the possibility of tomorrow. For now, he needed to give her those final moments alone with him.

Eventually the Episcopal priest encouraged Scarlett to remove Melly from the room, but it was Wade who prevailed upon her to do so, even as she screamed loudly that she would never leave her Papa.

Lifting her swiftly in his arms, he whispered softly. "It's best, Melly. Your Papa needs you to be strong for him now, and you have to be, just as he would wish you to do, understand?" Nodding in agreement, Melly wiped her eyes and pulled herself up straight.

Before departing, she placed one final kiss on her father's forehead. "Melly?" Rhett emerged from the shadows in the hallway, reaching out for her. "I just…I just wanted you to know how sorry I am about your Papa. He was a - a very good man."

Melly nodded and attempted to move past him.

"I…I know how it is to lose someone very close to you. I lost a daughter. She was the light of my world, and I miss her to this day. Her name was Bonnie. She would have been seventeen, if she'd lived…And I know it feels as if the pain will never go away, but it does, Melly. I promise you that. And I know that nothing in the world will ever replace your Papa, but perhaps, perhaps, one day, you can find it in your heart to love me just a little…"

His eyes were as big as saucers, ridden with a feverish glow of mad hope.

"I am very sorry that you lost your daughter, Captain Butler. But I'm not Bonnie, I'm Melly. And you're crazy if you think for one minute that you can replace my Papa!" She fled down the hallway into her own bedroom and slammed the door tightly behind her, leaving Rhett standing stunned in the hallway to listen to her gut-wrenching sobs that seemed to last forever.

_NB: Well, I'm finally back after spending a glorious ten days in Melly's hometown of Amelia Island. It was absolutely glorious, but I hope I didn't leave too many people hanging…_

_This is another short chapter, I know, but Chapters 15 and 16 were originally one chapter in my drafts, so the length is reflective of that. That said, this story isn't finished yet. Melly has a lot of growing up to do without Ashley's guiding hand, and Scarlett and Rhett have quite a bit of catching up to do. Also, I am interested in hearing which of Melly's two love interests my readers like the best…if either…My dear sisters and mother have read the ending so far and are split down the middle between "Team Sean" and "Team Mason"._

_So, as always, I continue to be appreciative of all the feedback. It is such a reward for a writer to hear that their work is appreciated. ~The Scarlett Starlet_


	17. Chapter 17

_17. Apologies_

**George Ashley Wilkes**

SUDDEN DEATH OF ONE OF FERNANDINA'S FINEST CITIZENS

Mr. Ashley Wilkes died at his residence overlooking Amelia Beach on Wednesday morning last, of congestion of the lungs following a lengthy illness. He passed peacefully, in the company of family, at about half-past ten o'clock.

George Ashley Wilkes was born in Clayton County, Georgia, on April 14, 1835 at his family estate, Twelve Oaks. When the war broke out, Mr. Wilkes was elected captain of the Clayton County Troop of Georgia Volunteers, Confederate Army, and during the greater part of the hostilities was in command of a larger company, frequently acting as an adjutant of the regiment. His gallant conduct and genial ways won for him the love and esteem of his comrades. He was never missing from his post, especially on the occasion of battle. Mr. Wilkes went through numerous engagements, notably the battles of First and Second Manassas, Sharpsburg, First Fredericksburg, Chancellorsville and Gettysburg. In February of 1864, Mr. Wilkes was stationed at the Rapidan River, Virginia, and was captured by Federal raiders and deported to Rock Island, Illinois, where he remained captive until the close of the war. At the war's end, he returned to his native state. He served until 1873 as first a partner then as sole proprietor of a lumber and timber company in Atlanta, a position he creditably filled until the occasion of his relocation to Fernandina. He was as good a citizen as he had proved himself a soldier. Generous to a fault, genial and social, he made hosts of friends. He was elected to fill several responsible positions on various committees, but of late years his illness had confined him largely to his home.

Mr. Wilkes was a devout man, a member in good standing of Saint Mark's Episcopal Church, and a loving and affectionate husband and father. His death in the prime of life will not only prove a sad and irreparable loss to his bereaved family but will also be felt by the entire community. He was preceded in death by his first wife, Melanie Hamilton Wilkes, and leaves behind his second wife of fifteen years, Scarlett O'Hara Wilkes, two children, Dr. Beauregard Wilkes of Charleston and Miss Melanie Wilkes of Fernandina, and two stepchildren, Mr. Wade Hamilton of Atlanta and Mrs. Joseph Fontaine of Jonesboro.

The funeral took place last night at half-past five o'clock from Saint Mark's Church, and was largely attended by numerous friends of the deceased.

Melly had no sooner slammed shut her bedroom door than her eyes filled with tears. The funeral was over, the obituary covered the front page of the _Florida Mirror_, the company had largely departed … Her Papa was gone, as though he'd never been there at all. Again, anger and hurt were tearing her apart. Unable to control her strong emotions, she felt like a little girl again, helpless, weak, and completely and utterly alone. Wiping her tears wasn't quite as effective with her bandaged hands, which had started to throb again midway through the funeral service. Clumsily she picked up a towel from the washstand with which to dry her face when she heard the doors in the hallway opening and closing. She glanced behind her and stared at the doorknob, rushing forward to turn the lock. She wasn't quick enough; the door was pushed open.

"You need to come downstairs eventually," Beau said as he walked in and closed the door behind him. His bag containing his medical supplies was in his hand.

"You could have asked before you came in." Melly sniffed, giving her face one last wipe and setting her towel back on the washstand.

"I apologize," he said. He sounded aggrieved. Good, she thought. But all she could think about was hiding the evidence that he had made her cry. She wouldn't give him or anyone else the satisfaction of witnessing her tears.

"I need to look at your hands. It just hit me that they haven't been changed in forty-eight hours."

She shrugged. "They don't hurt."

"I bet they don't. Give them here."

Wordlessly she sat down on the bed and held them out to him as bidden. He slowly unwrapped the first one and she bit her lip to stop herself from crying out. The flesh was red and splotchy and swollen; there was no hope of her holding a pen any time soon.

"This should have been changed yesterday," he said in a clipped tone, his doctor's voice. "I can't believe that you didn't let anyone know."

"I was rather occupied with other things," she snapped back.

He paused at that, setting her hand aside and placing both of his own hands on her shoulders. She was surprised to see tears in his eyes.

"I owe you an apology."

"You think so?"

"I could make excuses for my conduct. I could say that I was overcome with grief for Father, with my own feelings of helplessness as I watched him slip away into nothing over the past few years. But I won't do that. I should never have allowed myself to lose control that way. I forgot all of my training, all of my dignity. And I did you the worst sort of disservice - I'm so very sorry about that, Melly. You must know how much I love you. I would rather die than hurt you."

She said nothing in reply, and he returned his attention to her left hand, pulling out a bottle of liniment from his bag and applying it.

"Does that sting?"

She nodded.

"That's a good thing. If it didn't, I'd be concerned that you had lost the feeling in your hands. As it goes, I believe these will be all healed in four or five weeks…" His voice trailed off for a moment as he wrapped the hand. "Not too tight, we'll let that liniment do its job. Do you know why I became a doctor, Melly?"

She shrugged. "Because you wanted to get away from Mother and I, apparently."

"No. But I see how you could think that after my conduct of two days ago. I wanted to become a doctor since I was nine years old. I watched my own mother hemorrhage to death after a miscarriage. It was the worst sort of feeling, to watch a parent die at all - but Mother's death would have been preventable. She wanted desperately to have more children, though she was absolutely advised against it. And I must confess, the fact that she was willing to die for such a cause never sat particularly well with me. But I digress. I've loved your mother as much as my own; but I won't lie and tell you that I was thrilled when they got married. Aunt Scarlett needed to be with Uncle Rhett-" he paused as he saw Melly scowl. "Hear me out, please, Melly. They loved each other, once. I mean really loved each other. It was awful after Mother died, because Rhett left and Scarlett just was, out of it, you know? And then, you came into the picture. She had an awful time with you. She had to stay in bed practically the entire time she was carrying you, and she nearly died having you. And I was convinced she was going to die. Then Father was diagnosed with his illness and I truly did think that God was out to get me, so I endeavored to beat Him in any way possible. I would study medicine and find cures for all of these diseases and I would save as many people as I possibly could - and now look at me - I've hurt you in the worst way possible. I've done everything that Father said not to do in telling you about Rhett."

"What are you talking about?" she sniffed.

"He wanted you to know about Rhett. That was his biggest regret, that they hid you so thoroughly from him. He wanted you to get to know him."

I don't _want_ to get to know him!" she shrilled. "I want my Papa back! I don't care about Rhett! I _hate _him!"

"I know, I know," Beau said soothingly. "Alright, honey, you've shouted. I know…"

"What am I supposed to do, Beau? Be glad that my whole life has been a lie?"

"A lie? Melly, Father was so damn devoted to you, oh honey…he loved you so much. Better than me, I truly believe that."

"You're stupid if you think that. He was so proud of you. He would tell anyone and everyone who would listen how proud of you he was. And when you graduated from medical school - oh Beau - if you could have seen him."

Beau sighed. "I'm glad. Thank you for telling me that. I always wanted to please him. I never could quite understand him, to be honest with you. You understood him much better than I did."

"And he understood me. I could say anything to him. And he's gone and I - I don't know what I'm supposed to do."

"You're supposed to grieve for as long as you need to, but then you're supposed to go on, and remember him how he was, and live your life like he'd want you to."

She nodded. "But I won't love Rhett. I refuse to do that."

Beau kissed her cheek. "I understand. You need time."

"Time? No. Love doesn't develop over time, not that sort of love anyway. I had one Papa and I won't have another one, even if he's - even if I am his -"

"You are Melanie Robillard Wilkes. No one can ever make you be anything otherwise. And you are no less my sister. If you can find it in your heart to forgive your brother for his deplorable conduct."

Tears welled up in her brown eyes as she felt his arms around her.

"Of course, Beau. Silly. Of course."

Downstairs, Scarlett was pacing around the house, ceasing in her toil only to rearrange the little knick-knacks in the china cabinet in the parlor. She couldn't go into Ashley's bedroom. She would lock it up and throw away the key, if only for his space not to be disturbed. She paused briefly to adjust her brooch and examine herself in the bejeweled mirror. Too plain, she thought, Ashley would be disappointed. Without hesitation she grabbed that old horribly gaudy ring of diamonds and emeralds and placed it on her pinky finger. She then added a silk shawls, bright green in color. The effect was pleasing, even against the staid black of her mourning gown. Staring at the reflection looking back at her, Scarlett began to weep softly, for Ashley, for Melly, for it all…

"Are you crying?" Rhett asked suspiciously, appearing behind her like a wraith, cautiously placing a hand on her heaving shoulder.

"No," she quickly denied. She turned around and appraised him. There was no smirk on his face, merely a blush as they made eye contact.

He didn't look as though he'd just been dealt a life-altering revelation over the past few days. His salt and pepper hair was clean and neatly slicked back. He was wearing a white shirt neatly tucked into black trousers. The clothes were fresh; he must have picked them up in town after the funeral. The funeral. Ashley's funeral.

His face was so handsome, so damnably handsome that she found herself staring hypnotically at him, which only infuriated her further. How dare he look handsome at a time like this?

"You kept that?" he asked, motioning to what had been their engagement ring.

"So it would seem," she snapped.

"Stop it, Scarlett. I'm tired of your barbed comments, so stop it. I realize that Ashley is in the ground, but I'm the one who has learned that he has a child who has been hidden from him for fifteen years. I believe that I am entitled to a little respect on the part of you, my dear."

"Respect? Respect! You _divorced _me! After you left me twice. After I begged and pleaded and cried in front of you. Rhett, I tried everything to make you believe that I loved you. But you wouldn't give me the chance!"

"I admit my share of wrongdoing. As I told you earlier, I am sorry that I left you at Tara. But did it ever occur to you for a minute that I might have been interested to know that you were with child? I wouldn't have begrudged you Ashley, if you had only let me see the child…"

"I didn't _want _Ashley! I wanted you!"

"Then why?"

"Because he did not want to see me plunged into even greater social ruin when Melly was born to a woman without a husband."

"So you'd sell yourself to another loveless marriage to give the child a father when she already had one?"

"It was not loveless!" Scarlett growled. "If you only knew how much he loved me, you'd die of shame for always speaking so ill of him. And he was a the best father she could- but he wanted to contact you. Always, Rhett, he tried to prevail on me to do it. I was so frightened of you. I was frightened that you would take Melly away from me."

Rhett winced. "You thought me as heartless as that?"

"I think that I hardly knew you anymore. All I knew was that you didn't love me. But you loved children more than anything, and I knew that the moment you saw her you would see-"

"I must have seen it. I must have known it the first time I saw her. But I didn't want to believe it. If you can believe me, I genuinely desired your happiness with Ashley."

She was still too upset to be gracious.

"I was happy with Ashley. We were happy together."

"I am glad then. I - Scarlett - its nothing if not difficult to for me to say, I have suffered immensely over the years without your presence in my life. Its been damned difficult. Might I hope that you could one day accept my apology and my offer of friendship?"

"Apology! You could apologize a thousand times and it would not be enough to assuage all the hurt that you've caused me over the years."

"Well, I could offer examples where I was on the receiving end of _your_ ill-will, Scarlett…"

"Don't even think about it. I spent two years chasing after you, Rhett. Two whole years you rejected me. Can you begin to understand what that feels like?"

"I suppose its akin to being in competition with another man for your wife's heart. I would imagine the feeling is somewhat similar."

Her lip was beginning to quiver, but her voice was firm. "Get out!"

He didn't. Instead, he moved closer toward her, his hand moved toward her cheek to wipe a tear from it.

"Don't-" he said softly. "Please, don't cry on my account." He kissed her brow tenderly, like her Pa had done so many years before…

"Scarlett!" Beau's voice called down from the stairway, and she quickly moved away from Rhett to address him as he entered the room.

"How are her burns?" she queried worriedly.

He shook his head. "The left hand is fine, it'll heal up nicely. The right one is worse than I anticipated. In fact, she really should be in a hospital. And she has a slight fever. If you would be agreeable, I would like to put her on a train to Charleston. If we make the noon train, we can be there by four and Doctor Hopewell can examine her. He's the best doctor in the South, Rhett, you can attest to that."

Rhett nodded. "You think it's that serious?"

"I think that left untreated, it could become very serious, yes."

"Then we'll go immediately," Scarlett said with renewed fervor. "I'll tell Ella and ask Mrs. Liddy to sit with Mammy."

"Mammy's here?" Rhett said with genuine surprise. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"She didn't want to see you," Scarlett said firmly. "And we won't be needing you to accompany us to Charleston. You've done quite enough."

"Scarlett, I have a house in Charleston. A rather large one, in which all of you would be comfortable and in which Melly could rest peacefully. At least let me do that, Scarlett, please."

"All right." Scarlett sighed. "I'll go upstairs and grab Melly's things."


	18. Chapter 18

_18. Acquaintances Renewed_

Melly was in a minor state of shock for a good portion of the trip to Charleston. When she began thinking clearly, they were nearly there, and she realized that she was heading straight into Rhett Butler's web.

She awoke on the train to the sounds of voices in the next compartment, one in particular explaining, "I spent the whole week in the County, searching, questioning people. I stopped Will Benteen from departing on a trip he'd planned with your sister to ask for his input. He had no idea where you'd gone. After that, I simply ran out of ideas. You were gone, vanished."

Melly recognized Rhett Butler's Charleston accent, and reached the doorway of the adjacent compartment just as he finished speaking. Beau was next to him, expressionless as usual. Ella and Melly's mother were sitting on the seat opposite them, both looking concerned, though Scarlett actually looked upset. Wade was standing up, his hand on their mother's shoulder.

"Still, Rhett, it isn't a simple matter of her accepting you into her life overnight. You'll have to be patient with her."

"I am aware of that, Wade, thank you."

Melly flinched. Apparently the subject of her relationship to Rhett was still under discussion - the last thing she wanted was to walk in on that particular conversation. But she wasn't expecting to hear him add, "I have no intention of imposing myself on her. In fact, as soon as Hopewell examines her, I'll leave you all to my house. It'll give her a chance to rest and you all as well. I know this has been a difficult week to say the least. Not to mention that Melly is feeling less than charitable towards me at the moment. I rather think she hates me -"

"Oh good God, I only said that in the heat of the moment," Melly said in disgust, drawing all of their eyes on her as she walked into their compartment.

"I'm glad you're awake," Beau broke the uncomfortable silence. "I want to change the bandages."

"You changed them before we left home."

"I'd like to change them again," he said, in a tone which brooked no disobedience from her.

Wade saw Beau's meaning, and asked Ella if she wouldn't like to accompany him to the dining car. She nodded in a agreement and took her brother's arm, leaving Scarlett and Rhett completely alone to stare silently at one another.

"How is your mother?" Scarlett said finally.

"She's well," Rhett replied quickly. "And Rosemary too is well. Happy as a lark."

"She has two children?"

"Yes. Well, nine if you count the stepchildren. She remarried."

"Nine, really?"

"The eldest, Andrew, is seventeen. His sister Josepha is a year younger."

"Yes I remember, Andrew was born in April and Bonnie in June -" Her voice trailed off as she watched him wince at the name. He was still grieving for their baby; he probably would forever. And he had not had Melly to take away some of the pain of losing her.

"Yes," he said. "I believe that's right. April the fifteenth, if I'm not mistaken."

"Ashley's birthday was the sixteenth," Scarlett said softly.

Rhett let out a hollow laugh. "It was his birthday, wasn't it? At that barbeque at Twelve Oaks?"

"Yes, yes it was."

"The war started and you began your matrimonial career."

"And met you. For better or worse."

"Indeed." Rhett sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "Its been a long time since that day - close to what, thirty years? No, that'd make you far older than you actually are."

She laughed. "Forty-four."

He put a hand over his heart in mock surprise. "I'm even closer to death than I realized-" He realized instantly the impropriety of his words, so he quickly changed the subject to a pleasanter topic.

"Melly is a very pretty girl," he remarked.

"I know," Scarlett said with pride. "She always has been so pretty, even as a child."

"Well, she's no longer a child," Rhett said, a trace of melancholy in his voice. "She's anything but- "

No, Scarlett thought to herself, she certainly wasn't little anymore. She had lately filled out with luscious curves that Scarlett herself had never possessed at fifteen. She would have no shortage of beaux - not that Scarlett was surprised by that in any way. Even when she was very small, Melly had every indication of growing into a real beauty; not that it would have mattered to Ashley or her if she hadn't. But still, it was nice to hear that Rhett admired her, even as she told herself that she didn't give a rip about his opinion. But for a few moments today, too many moments, she had utterly ignored her longtime conviction of apathy toward him, which she'd lived with for fifteen years. She _wanted_ him in her life - in Melly's life. How the hell did that happen?

There were no more words between them as the train pulled to a halt and the porter announced that they had arrived in Charleston.

Beau and Melly exited first while Rhett hailed another porter to see their bags conveyed to his address. Wade and Ella had already disembarked when Scarlett stepped onto the platform; she saw them deep in conversation with a tall, raven-haired woman whom Scarlett vaguely recognized.

With a laugh of delight, Rhett leapt forward on the platform and moved towards the woman, who grinned broadly.

He engulfed her in a bear hug, which she returned wholeheartedly. Scarlett caught sight of a smaller version of the woman, a strikingly pretty teenager with inquisitive black eyes glancing coyly in Wade's direction. It had to be -

"Josepha!" Melly exclaimed.

"Oh Melly, thank heaven you're better!" the girl embraced her. "I was so very worried, and Uncle Rhett sent Mother a telegram that you were coming and I just had to come too. I heard about your father, Melly, I'm so, so sorry."

"Thank you," Melly said sincerely, "Josepha, this is my mother." She turned towards Scarlett, who walked very slowly towards Rhett's sister and niece. It had been so many years since she had laid eyes on Rosemary; so many years had passed since she'd seen any of Rhett's family, particularly the ones she'd liked so well, Rosemary and her young children. Such a wealth of emotion filled her, it almost brought tears to her emerald eyes.

"Rosemary!" she embraced Rhett's sister. "And Josepha, what a pretty girl you are!"

"Well, well!" Rosemary said with a laugh. "I almost didn't believe Wade and Ella when they said that you were here. I mean, you, actually here? I even got angry at him for getting my hopes up with lies!"

"She did, too," Wade put in.

"But I couldn't _not _come and see for myself. You're finally home."

Scarlett felt her shoulders tense. "Not quite that. I'm sure that you must have heard the sad news- "

"Yes," Rosemary interjected. "Yes and here I am being insensitive, Scarlett, darling. But you and Melly are here and she's safe and that's all that matters. Oh dear, those poor little hands. Did your daughter tell you what a hero she was, Scarlett?"

"She saved me," Josepha said with fervor.

"No, she didn't tell me," Scarlett glanced over at Melly, who had walked over to Ella and Beau. She'd inched away from Rhett little by little. "We didn't have much time to talk between ourselves."

"She saved my Josepha's life. And it was only happenstance and the goodwill of a young Irish boy that saved her."

"What!"

"Indeed. Josepha told me that the walls were caving in. Melly shoved her out and something fell on her. It was horrible, Scarlett, horrible. Rhett was sitting out on my front porch and saw the flames. Next thing I know he's taking off towards the school and returns five minutes later with Melly in his arms, Josepha following. I declare, it liked to have killed me, watching that."

"Oh, don't tell me any more, Rosemary," Scarlett's heart was pounding at the thought of her precious child in such grave danger. "But who saved her? I'd like to give him something."

Rosemary shook her head. "I'm afraid that I didn't catch his name. My husband tried to offer him money, but he declined. Pity. I'd like to thank him myself."

"You can thank me now," Rhett appeared behind his sister. It was easy to tell that they were siblings.

"I'll thank you not to eavesdrop," Rosemary smacked his arm playfully. "Didn't Mother ever tell you that it was impolite to do so?"

"My apologies. Scarlett, your carriage is here. I've instructed the driver to take you straight to Hopewell's clinic. He's an old friend, he'll be glad to see Melly in directly. Beau and Ella, you two go ahead with them."

Beau nodded in agreement but Scarlett said, "Rhett, aren't you coming with us?"

"I'll see your baggage to my house. I've already instructed the driver to deliver you there after Melly is examined. I'll leave you in peace tonight."

She smiled weakly. "Thank you, Rhett. For everything."

"You're welcome, Scarlett."

Rosemary watched with eagerness as Scarlett followed her children and disappeared into the crowd, Rhett's eyes not leaving her small figure as she departed. She took a step back to take a full look at him and finished it with an amused chuckle. "Oh Rhett, some things never change, do they?"

"Uncle Rhett?" Josepha inquired cheekily. "You don't think that you and Aunt Scarlett could ever reconcile, do you? I mean, she doesn't seem all _that_ sad about her husband."

"She is very sad, Josepha," Rosemary corrected. "And so is poor Melly." Then she added in a teasing voice, "But Uncle Rhett didn't wait so long after her other husband had passed away to ask for her hand…"

Rhett glared at his sister. "What do you mean by that?"

"Well, you seem to be getting along fine with Scarlett. You've always said that you never could get along with her."

"She and I have an - understanding. Well, I should say that Ashley and I have one. Before he died, he -" Rhett lowered his voice so that only Rosemary could hear him. "-he actually did me a good turn. I must admit, I buried my hatchet ever since."

Rosemary hadn't expected that, and just stared at him a moment before she replied, "I'll skip the condolences, if you don't mind. I'm sorry to speak ill of a dead man, but it never set well with me that he led Scarlett on for so many years while his wife was alive. Your marriage ended largely because of him- and on top of that- he turns Melly into some sort of dreadful deathbed confession. If he had been any sort of gentleman, he would have contacted you years ago instead of allowing you to hear it from me."

Rhett sighed. "I wouldn't admit this to anyone but you, Rose, but I was hard-pressed not to smile at his funeral."

"Oh Rhett, that _is _crass."

"But I suppose I ought to bless his memory every day from now on. He gained me Melly, I suppose. I'm not sure what Scarlett would have done without him. She was too proud to come to me when she found out that she was pregnant - I admit, that was mostly my fault. I could barely stand to look at her."

"But that's all passed now. You can begin again, forgive each other."

"That's a beautiful sentiment, Rose, but I very much doubt it. There's far too much hurt there to easily assuage it with a few days worth of goodwill. No, Melly will rest and her burns will heal and then they'll go back to Florida - or perhaps even Tara. And I'll - I suppose that I will carry on my misanthropic existence."

She rolled her eyes. "You're stubborn enough to do it, too. What about Melly, don't you think that she might need you in her life now that she no longer has Ashley?"

Rhett laughed hollowly. "I think she's made her feelings about me abundantly clear. I know now that she exists, that I'll be able to see her on occasion. But I'll always have to treat her with kid gloves. She'll never really be _mine_, you know? Not like Josepha and Andrew are yours."

"What about Ella and Wade? They're yours, aren't they? Or at least, they were before you abandoned them."

"When you put it that way, it sounds far worse than it was, Rosemary Rouzan."

"Did you mention Wade, Mother?" Josepha piped up hopefully. "He is handsome, isn't he?"

Rosemary's eyes sparkled with mirth. "I did, dearest. And I agree with you, he _is _very handsome. Just think, if he asks you to marry him, we can have a huge wedding here in Charleston and your Uncle Rhett can have an excuse to be around Wade's mother."

"It is a shame that you didn't stay married, Uncle Rhett," Josepha chided. "I could have had all the time in the world with Wade then. Of course, I suppose it was good that she married Mr. Wilkes - if she hadn't, there'd be no Melly!"

Rosemary almost choked as she stifled a giggle, but Rhett just shrugged. "It just wasn't meant to be, Josepha."

Rosemary stared up at him, a frown forming on her face. "You're not joking, are you?"

"No. And do accept it, Rosemary, once Melly has rested here for a few weeks, Scarlett will be free to move on with her life. In the meantime, I intend on making myself scarce and helping her to do so."

That didn't remove Rosemary's frown, but she accepted his words, nodding grudgingly as they headed towards the carriage...

Scarlett missed Rhett. She couldn't get him out of her mind on the short ride back to his mansion. The mansion she should have had the opportunity to be mistress of!

"Do you think its big enough?" Melly said sarcastically, her voice drowsy from the sleeping draft Dr. Hopewell had provided her with after he had cleaned and re-treated her hands.

"You should see the inside," Wade commented. "There's a big veranda and marble floors with ornamental borders and big bay windows. Then there's the gun room - it has its own lavatory in it."

"Pleasant," Ella chimed in.

"The bedrooms are all upstairs, six of them, if I'm not mistaken. And a gigantic library and reading rooms."

"A library?" Melly said through a yawn.

"A library. A big one."

"She'll be in heaven," Ella addressed her mother. "She might even desire to stay."

"No," Melly said softly, "I want to go home."

Scarlett ran her fingers through her daughter's long hair. "We will go home, darling. Very, very soon…"

"I'm hungry, Mother," Melly said drowsily. "Do you think that they'll offer us dinner?"

"I think that can be arranged," Wade winked at his sister. "But you'll probably need a nap first…"

Dinner was long over before Rhett Butler made his appearance in his own parlor. Rosemary and her daughter had already retired for the evening since they were returning to Savannah early in the morning. Ella too had gone to bed, Melly long before her. Scarlett had been sitting in the parlor with Wade for a glass of brandy - but she was hard-pressed for an excuse to keep her son downstairs much longer. And she couldn't sit up and wait for Rhett _all_ night.

Suddenly, they heard the front door burst open and the sound of booted feet dragging across the marble floor.

"Cap'n Butler," the Negro servant opened the parlor door for his employer and Rhett nodded his thanks.

"Evening Rhett," Wade stood up and sat his glass on the table. "Mother, if you wouldn't mind terribly, I'm exhausted and that featherbed looks mighty promising."

Scarlett smiled up at him. "Goodnight Wade Hampton, and thank you."

"Would you like me to see you upstairs, Mother?"

"That's fine, Wade. I remember the way."

"Alright," he said, glancing warily at Rhett. "Goodnight."

"He's a fine man," Rhett said offhandedly as Wade departed from the room. "You did a fine job, Scarlett. With all of your children. I must retract any past comments out of my mouth regarding your mothering skills."

"Better than a cat, hmm?" Scarlett said.

"Considerably. And your taste in architecture has improved as well. Your house in Florida was quite picturesque. Not at all to your usual taste."

She burst out, "Ashley picked it out."

"Ah," he laughed, sitting down in the sofa opposite her. "I should have guessed."

"But I did the colors. All myself."

"You did well, Scarlett."

"Oh Rhett, what are we going to do?"

"Regarding what, Scarlett?"

"Melly, of course. You can't just abandon her - not now that you know."

"Melly has done without me for fifteen years, Scarlett. But I'll be glad to visit her as frequently or as infrequently as she desires."

"Oh," Scarlett said, her eyes downcast. "Well, I suppose that's all to be said, then."

"What is it, Scarlett? What do you want me to say?" Rhett moved close to her, wiping her cheek with the tips of his fingers.

Unconsciously, she tilted her head just a little toward him in the age old invitation. Suddenly, his lips were on hers. His kiss was an intimate one, the first she'd shared in years - since she was married to him! His tongue was asserting its dominance in her mouth it explored it. Even the taste of him sparked a thrill within her senses. This was what she was made for, and Ashley knew it. Even as he was dying he was thinking about her and her happiness. She hugged him more tightly, and giggled as his fingers spread to the back of her neck, causing a shiver to shoot down her spine. But then, he broke the kiss, questioning her with his eyes. Was he giving her a chance to stop - or asking her permission to begin?

By the provocative nature of his next kiss, it was clear that the decision had been made - and both of them had agreed.

He was unbuttoning her blouse and she was pulling the shirt from his pants - and then - the parlor door burst open, startling Scarlett enough to pull her face away from his, only to see her stricken daughter standing there.

"Oh my God - Melly!"

* * *

><p><em>NB: We're coming into the final third of the story. I just wanted to reiterate how grateful I am to all the wonderful readers who have reviewedmessaged/favorited, etc…You all have inspired me so much and I hope that you'll stick with me as the conclusion nears. ~The Scarlett Starlet _


	19. Chapter 19

_19. Understandings_

Melly couldn't get that last image of her mother and that horrible man out of her head. She had barely noticed when her bedroom door opened and her mother stood there sobbing. She couldn't listen to the mumbled apologies, to the frantic pleas for her to understand. She understood just fine - her Papa was dead and her mother didn't care. She cried herself to sleep and, exhausted from it all, overslept the next morning.

She peered out the door and out into the hallway. Wade's door was the only one not ajar; he was clearly the only one besides her who had yet to go downstairs for breakfast. Breakfast meant seeing her mother with that man, and she was not exactly in the mood for any more of that.

She pounded on Wade's door repeatedly before she heard him shout, "Leave me alone. I'm not moving from this bed. Who the hell is it, anyway?"

"Its Melly!" she shouted back.

She heard him slowly shuffle to the doorway and crack it open.

"Everything alright?" he said through a yawn.

She shook her head. "I need to talk to someone."

"Where's Ella?"

"Downstairs with Mother and that man."

"That man, huh?"

"Yes, that man. He was pawing all over Mother and she was letting him. Its as if she's forgotten all about Papa - that he's dead and just barely in the ground. And to think that he's - he's-"

"Melly, honey, Melly. Settle down before you make yourself ill."

"You don't understand!"

"I know you're upset."

"Upset? Upset? Wouldn't you be upset, if it were you?"

"I - Melly, you don't need to hear this from me. Or maybe you do. After all, I'm the only member of this family that's not ruled by my emotions…Okay, come on in."

She followed him into the bedroom and sat down at the edge of his big bed. He was handsome, her brother. His mop of unruly curls gave him a wild, tousled look. No wonder all the girls admired him.

"Okay," he heaved a sigh. "I need you to realize that all of this was unintentional. Try not to be too angry with Mother. She's not had an easy time with it since you were born…well…to be fair, it started before that, long before she was married to Rhett. Not that their marriage was never particularly good, if you know what I mean, not like her and your Papa. They weren't very nice to each other, either one. And Ella and I suffered tremendously from being caught in the middle of it all. I've never told you about that have I? My tragic boyhood?"

She shook her head. "Tragic?"

"_Tragic_." he reiterated. "I was so shy and awkward. Beau was the more outgoing of the two of us, if you can believe that. Mother was only sixteen when I was born…so she was still growing up along with me."

"Sixteen?"

"Yes…about your age. How would you like to be married and widowed and the mother of an infant?"

Melly shivered. "She never talks to me about that part of her life."

"Nor with me. I don't think she likes to remember those times. Too many bad memories of the war. Hell, I have too many memories of the war. I hope I never have to hear another cannon fire as long as I live. Anyway, it was no better with Ella's daddy, Mr. Kennedy. He was kind and all, but I just remember Mother being in a daze through the whole thing. And then Ella was born and he died and Rhett came into the picture permanently. But would you believe that he was the most constant presence in my life for my entire childhood? Even more than Uncle Ashley, and he lived next door."

"But you love Papa -"

"I do. I do, Melly. I'm just explaining this all to you so you'll understand where Mother is. When Aunt Melly died and Bonnie died…we were all of us devastated. Rhett too, and he left, for almost two whole years. And Mother didn't seem to care about anything but trying to win him back, so she'd pack us up and we'd go here and there, hoping for a glimpse of him. Then one day, she just stopped trying, and we landed at Tara."

The haunting image of Rhett's arms around her mother set a chill down Melly's spine.

"And he came to Tara?"

"He did."

"And did you know then?"

"Know what, honey?"

"About me."

"No. Well, Ella had an inkling. She was a precocious child, sort of like she is now - you know - good instincts. Well, she caught on that Ashley and Mother never shared a bed after they got married, and from that she was able to deduce that they surely couldn't have made a baby that way."

Melly blushed furiously. The other girls had done their share of talking about how babies were made back at school, but the subject of her own conception was a sensitive issue, especially when the facts surrounding it had become so complicated.

"But, Mother said that she loved Papa. And he loved her. Was all of that a lie?"

"No!" Wade said vehemently, shaking his head. "They loved each other very, very much. And don't get me started how much they loved you. You were the very light of their lives. Once you finally came that is- it was hell getting you here."

"Beau said something about that. Again, Mother never shared."

"I just remember seeing her in bed, all propped up on the pillows. She was bleeding. It was awful. Oh God…sorry, Melly…but I made a vow then and there never to inflict that kind of pain on a woman. Shit. I shouldn't have said that to you."

Melly smiled weakly. "Poor Ella, then."

"Ella's maternal. She's made for it. And she and Joe want it so badly…Children just aren't for me, you know? I don't know how I'd handle them."

"Yes, its hard for me to imagine you married to anyone…although Josepha seemed to admire you greatly at the station yesterday."

"I thought we were talking about you," Wade raised an eyebrow. "But yes, Josepha has gotten quite pretty. She's so young though. It'd be like being married to you. You're not nearly old enough to be married, Melanie Wilkes, so don't even think about getting any ideas."

"I won't, believe me," she said.

"But Mother can't help how she is around Rhett," Wade said, his tone more serious. "Neither can he. And that's how its always been. You remember reading that novel last winter, remember? You read it aloud to all of us?"

"_Wuthering Heights_?"

"Right. That one. Well, remember how what's-her-name is in love with one man and married to another, but she loves the man she's married to because-"

"Rhett Butler is no Heathcliff," Melly interrupted.

"You're right; he's much nicer than old Heathcliff, isn't he?"

Melly rolled her eyes. "Heathcliff would never have been pawing all over Catherine if it had been Mr. Linton that had died."

"Oh Melly! You see what I mean though?"

"I see what you mean, Wade. But I am not going to forgive him."

"I didn't hear him ask you to. That's Rhett's most admirable quality, Melly, he's patient. He won't force you to be close to him. But as far as him and Mother, you needn't have worried. There will always be sparks of passion between them, but their ship has sailed, as they say. As a couple, they've as much a chance as Heathcliff and Catherine."

"If that's the case, the passion should be long gone, shouldn't it?"

Wade smiled. "Well, that is the nature of the human spirit, isn't it? We love the pain of old love. We run to it and thrive on it.. Sort of a self-inflicted torture…seeing how close you can get to the fire before you're burned."

"That's very poetic, Wade. I must say, I've never heard you talk that way before. You sound as if you're speaking from experience."

"I am. From both positions. I was in love once, believe it or not. I absolutely adored Julia Pecard from the moment I clapped eyes on her when I returned to Atlanta after college. But she knew that my family was rather tainted with scandal and I wasn't so disgustingly wealthy then as I am now…so…she married Frank Bonnell and died the next year."

"Oh Wade!"

"Don't 'oh Wade' me. Its alright. I'm not dying of a broken heart or anything. Its just difficult for me to seriously court women. I suppose I unfairly weigh each one against her, and they never seem to measure up. That and I'm not keen on ending up like Mother was after Rhett first left her, desolate and heartbroken."

"Poor Mother." Melly looked down at her stiff, bandaged hands, then back at Wade. "But why did she allow him to do it again and again? And now - I don't understand how she could let him back in after all this time…"

"C'est l'amour, Melly. Strange and mysterious and blind."

She blinked. "I won't fall in love. Ever. You're smart not to."

Wade smiled at her. "One day you will. Maybe I will as well."

"No," she shook her head. "No, I won't..."

After she took her leave of Wade, she went through the rest of the day in the same mad pace, remaining largely in her room, coming out only for meals. Her mother was doing the same, and they didn't make eye contact until Scarlett stuck her head in to whisper goodnight and kiss her on the cheek.

Melly was tired enough not to resist, feeling both numb and weighted down in her grief again. So they slept in Rhett Butler's house a second night, then a third, then another week after that. But she never fell into deep sleep; despite her physical and mental exhaustion, she'd tossed and turned most nights, reliving her Papa's last moments and that awful picture of her mother kissing Rhett Butler in the parlor and all the things that she should have said but didn't, and all the things that could have happened if Rhett Butler had been her father instead of Ashley Wilkes - but didn't.

Despite her lack of rest, her second visit to Dr. Hopewell brought the news that the bandages could be removed from her hands, and as long as she continued to apply the liniment three times a day, they would suffer no permanent damage. Her mother seemed agitated, and Melly wondered privately if it was because she was getting well quickly and consequently, the time was coming for them to return home sooner than Scarlett would have preferred. And Rhett Butler wouldn't follow them - all because of her.

Aimlessly Melly walked around Rhett's house on their last planned night in the city. She had had every intention of getting a good night's sleep, but it was alluding her as it had every other night, so why not take the opportunity to explore? It wasn't as though she'd ever return to the house again.

She walked through the hall corridor and tiptoed to the library. It was massive indeed, and she had feigned disinterest as Rhett had shown them the grand tour. But he wasn't here, so she was at her leisure to look all she liked. Besides, the lamps were lit and she had no more bandages to hinder her. There it was - a copy of _Wuthering Heights_ - how appropriate, she thought to herself.

"Are you an admirer of the novel, Miss Melly?"

Rhett Butler emerged from the shadows of the room, as if he had come from behind the large portrait of a young girl.

"Where did you come from?" she cried with surprise.

He swung the portrait round again, revealing the hidden portal. "Secret passageway. Its damned handy if I want to enjoy a late-night book. Of course, I seem to accumulate more than I have the time or patience to enjoy."

"That's my trouble as well," Melly said, returning the book to the shelf. "And as to your question, I liked the novel, but I prefer Miss Charlotte Bronte's work to her sister's."

"Ha. Another dark, brooding hero. How…appropriate."

"I didn't say that I like the hero," she snapped. "I find both Heathcliff and Mr. Rochester to be self-indulgent, morose, and misanthropic fools. And they are not motivated to improve upon their dispositions, even for the benefit of their respective lovers. It takes tragedy to bring them any sort of resolution, and even then they are both left shattered, broken men. Not much to admire there, I'm afraid, Captain Butler."

He sighed. "You are quite the literary analyst. I rather thought that the tragedy of the stories made them all the more compelling."

"Hardly. I was merely glad to see the tales over."

"Well then, permit me, Miss Melly - what sort of novels do you enjoy?"

She considered his question seriously. "In all honesty I prefer nonfiction. But I have enjoyed Sir Walter Scott's work in the past. And I have a peculiar weakness for the work of Miss Jane Austin. I don't expect you to be familiar with her, but I rather admire her strong female characters."

"Jane Austin," Rhett repeated the name. "I shall have to investigate. I'm always looking for something new to read."

"You are like me in that, sir."

He laughed. "Ashley has instilled fine habits in you."

She nodded briefly, then pointed at the portrait behind him. "Who is that?"

"Bonnie." Rhett whispered the name, then said a little more loudly. "My daughter, Bonnie. Mine and your mother's."

Melly said nothing, but the unspoken next sentence was - _she was your sister_.

"She's lovely."

"She had blue eyes," Rhett said. "The artist was working off of a miniature I had…he made her eyes dark. But they were blue."

He put a shaky hand to his head and for a moment, she thought he might cry. But he looked across the room at Melly. "I never thought to have another chance. After Bonnie…after she went. I thought that time would pass and I would forget all about her and what it felt like to have a daughter. I'm just sorry that my pride has brought us to this…but I'm not sorry that your mother hid you from me. Ashley raised a hell of a girl. You are quite unique, Melly."

She was already in tears when he had started, but she let out a loud racking sob that summed up the gravity of it all, the realization that while she had lost her father, Rhett was both finding one daughter and reliving the loss of his other. But even worse, he had been dealt the realization that fifteen years of her life had been taken away from him. After all, he'd never been with her for more than minutes or hours at a time; he'd never even had a chance to form a bond with her. But he'd loved her mother, apparently. Despite everything that had happened between them before and after her birth, he loved her mother, enough to stay when there was no cause for him to do so. He was not leaving this time…

She'd been dreading it, but she knew she couldn't put it off any longer. "Mother needs you."

"I know," he said in a choking voice. "But not as much as I need her. Melly, I won't try to replace your Papa. You understand?"

He held her close as she cried all the harder against his broad chest. And he cried too. And she apologized for weeping in front of him and he told her that there was no need, that he understood.

All those tears brought her such relief. When she finally stopped, her emotions reined in, she realized that some terrible weight of uncertainly had been washed away as well. She told him everything, holding nothing back. Her past, her present, her hopes for the future. There was so much to talk about, and the words spilled out of her mouth as though a dam had burst within her. Because Mason had been on her mind so little, she even asked of him, though briefly. At least, she tried to keep it brief.

He winced a little as she said, "I'm not sure what I did - I've not heard from him in so long, I must have offended him in some way."

"You haven't," Rhett said softly. "I'm sure that he's had a very good reason in his delay in contacting you."

She couldn't believe that he was suggesting such a thing; on the contrary, she was expecting to hear that Mason was already carrying on with another girl; that had been her fear. Eyes wide, she said, "you really think so?"

"Yes Melly," he replied. "Yes, I really think so…"

Melly awoke the next morning having overslept, oddly rested and filled with a strange sense of satisfaction - was it, peace?

"Miss Melly?" one of the white aproned maids stuck her head into Melly's bedroom. "You have a letter, Miss. In the parlor."

"A letter? Who from?"

"I'm not certain, Miss. I believe that it was postmarked from Savannah."

Instantly revitalized by her excitement, she quickly donned her robe and satin mules and raced down the stairs. Her mother's face was filled with mirth as she stood at the bottom, a sealed envelope in her hands.

"Rhett left early this morning on business. He said that you had spoken…"

"Yes, about everything."

Relief shone on her mother's face as she took in a deep breath.

"I'm sorry that I've been so difficult, Mother."

"No," Scarlett shook her head. "You've done nothing wrong. Nothing."

Melly fell into her mother's arms and sank into them; it felt so good to be held by her again.

"I understand if you want to…if someday, he's-"

"That day is not today," Scarlett said firmly. "If ever."

Melly nodded. "I understand."

"Oh, I almost forgot-" Scarlett eagerly thrust the envelope toward Melly. "Would you like me to open it?"

Melly nodded; her hands were still stiff. Her mother pulled the handwritten note out of its envelope and turned it around so that Melly could read it without her seeing it, if it contained a private message.

"It's from Mason!" Melly exclaimed. "He's not been avoiding me at all; Rhett told him about Papa and about the fire and he desired to visit me here but felt it inappropriate. But he's in Savannah for the next month, then on to Paris. And he asks me to visit if I am able - Mother - he does care! Oh if only we had the time…"

"Calm down, Melly," Scarlett smiled. "Time doesn't particularly matter at this point. If you'd like to spend a few days in Savannah, we certainly can. I'd like to go to Tara too. Of course, I'd like to be there when Ella's baby comes."

"Oh Mother, you mean it?"

"Of course. If you like him so much, darling - who am I to stand in your way?"

Melly was afraid that it wouldn't be as appealing to her mother if she discovered how few connections Mason actually had. He was an illegitimate son, after all, and they didn't exactly possess social distinction themselves - _if_ Mason actually made her an offer, it would cause a scandal to say the least.

But Melly did not mention any of that to her mother; she would think about all that tomorrow…after she had seen Mason again.

* * *

><p><em>NB: Let the battle for Melly's heart begin. ~The Scarlett Starlet <em>


	20. Chapter 20

**20**. _Choices_

Scarlett and her daughter arrived in Savannah on a Tuesday, where they were greeted by Rosemary and her husband Jacques at the depot and swept into the Rouzans' carriage. Looking around at the destruction around her, Melly could hardly believe that a mere three weeks before, she had followed the same path to and from the school and the church and back to her dormitory. She had eaten dinner at the pub and Sean McGinnis had walked her home - and kissed her. That seemed an eternity ago.

Workers were still removing the charred remnants of her school buildings that were destroyed.

"They're already making plans to rebuild," Jacques said. "Immediately following the fire, there was a mad dash to recover anything of value and they managed to save a few treasures from the sacristy. And of course, all the priests were alright, which was a blessing. They've been taking up residence at the convent with the good sisters."

"I need to go and see Careen while I'm here," Scarlett said. "It hardly occurred to me that she was so close to danger."

Melly sighed. She had only seen her Aunt Careen, now Sister Mary Madeline, a handful of times since she had been at school, and each time she had felt as though she was an unwanted reminder of the nun's life before she had become a bride of Christ. That and Sister constantly harped over the fact that Melly was an Episcopalian like her Papa rather than a Roman Catholic. Privately, Melly didn't see much difference in the two…

The carriage stopped at the front of Rosemary and Jacques's house, and Melly disembarked slowly, her back stiff from the two hour long train ride from Charleston.

"Is Josepha at home?" she asked Rosemary politely.

"No, unfortunately. I sent her visiting with her Mammy. She's in Augusta with Miss Carmichael."

"Oh," Melly replied, sad that neither of her friends would be on hand for her visit. Who knew when she would be back in Savannah again?

"Melly received a letter from a young man while we were in Charleston," Scarlett addressed Rosemary. "If you were agreeable, Rosemary, perhaps he could call on her at your home."

Rosemary looked slightly perturbed.

"Of course," she said, her voice strangely hollow. "If I might ask, who is this young man? I might know him."

"Mason Kershaw," Melly piped up. "He's an acquaintance of Captain- of Rhett's."

Rosemary exchanged a glance with her husband, whose attention was now primarily focused on something outside the carriage window.

"He may call. That will be fine," Rosemary said.

"Do you know anything about the man, Rosemary?" Scarlett inquired, her attention piqued by the other woman's reaction.

"Yes, actually. Melly is quite correct, he is a friend of Rhett's. Well - I should say that his mother was a friend of Rhett's."

Scarlett's eyes widened. "What sort of friend?"

"Not _that_ close," Rosemary reassured her. "I mean to say that he's not - you know."

"I see," Scarlett pursed her lips with disapproval. "Melly, I'm not sure that I want you associating with this boy."

"Mother!"

"You failed to mention that he was a complete reprobate-"

"Reprobate! Mother, he's an architect, he has a profession!"

"That does not make him a gentleman, Melly."

"Well, Grandpa Gerald wasn't a gentleman, but he was good enough for your mother!"

Scarlett looked hard at the look of dogged determination on her daughter's face. She'd had that look. She'd been sixteen and in love with Ashley.

"Alright," she sighed heavily. "But I want Rosemary to be in the house at all times, do you understand?"

"Good idea," Rosemary nodded. "I'll give you your privacy, Melly. But you are a young lady now; it's important for you not to sully your reputation. As for me and you, Scarlett, we have quite a bit of catching up to do before you rush off to see Sister dear…And tomorrow, well, tomorrow is the biggest single social event of the season. My God, its not every day that we have a wedding between two of the greatest families in the South…its just a pity that its still so chilly out; I'd have dearly loved to wear one of my new gowns from Paris, but they're all for summer…"

Melly's attention waned as her mother and Rosemary began the intense discussion of the bride, the mother of whom both were acquainted with and she occupied herself with thoughts of Mason. It had been nearly three months since she had laid eyes on him, and yet she felt years older than she had at the Fernandina Carnival. Would he still find her interesting? And the even more pressing question - would she still be so taken with him?

As promised in his note, Mason called around two in the afternoon. After an excruciating debate with her mother over which dress was most becoming, Melly greeted him clad in her favorite, a pale grey bombazine, her long, black hair hanging loose down her back. She wasn't so old that it needed to be pinned up at all times; that and she had been told that it was her most becoming feature.

"Well, well," Mason Kershaw teased as he dropped down into the chair facing Melly. "Your mother let you off the leash for today, did she? I suppose that means that I have permission to take you for a drive about town?"

"I'm never on a leash," she responded sharply, irritated by his sarcastic tone. "But I certainly shan't go out driving with you without a chaperone."

"You certainly walked about town before the fire without a chaperone. I recall the day we first met, in the library, do you remember?"

"That was different. The school didn't provide carriages for us - we had to walk around to get anywhere. But I'm not here at school now; I'm a guest of Miss Rosemary and my behavior reflects upon her."

"Are you truly afraid of Rosemary's ire? Come, come, Miss Melly. I know her well; she's nothing but a pushover with a few well placed complements. No, I think that you've reached the age where you've begun to worry about your own reputation. I thought that you were above such petty concerns. Where is the girl who captivated me in the library with her utopian ideals, her concern for the poor and the downtrodden, with her-"

"I understand your meaning," she interjected.

The challenge in his sparkling eyes almost tempted her to take him up on his offer, her mother and Rosemary be damned. But she knew better than to tempt her mother's temper; she'd never been on the receiving end of it, and that had been intentional on her part. Then of course there were the wagging tongues of the community at large - apparently already set wagging by her mother's presence in the city. It was hard not to notice the neighbors staring at her as she had walked into Rosemary's house, making Melly fully aware that her days of blissful anonymity in Savannah were finished.

But he was offering a ride in plain daylight, for all to see. Nothing to hide.

"I'm sorry, Mason, but I can't. I thank you for your kind offer."

"Kind offer, my foot. If you're so frightened by what people will say, then hop on the back. You don't even have to converse with me. I'll pretend like you're not even there."

His challenge was offered.

Melly's heart began to pound as she met his eyes. He was so handsome, so damnably handsome.

"Well?"

Jacques Rouzan entered the room unannounced, and tipped his ever-present Panama hat to Melly.

"Apologies for my intrusion," he said politely, "but Miss Melly is expected at Madame Robillard's for tea and I volunteered to walk with her."

"I would be glad to do it," Mason replied. "I am more than capable of squiring her safely to her aunt's."

"That will not be necessary," Jacques snipped. "Thank you for your visit."

"Miss Melly," Mason bowed deeply. "Jacques."

The older man drew himself up proudly, as if he wanted to correct the younger for the lack of propriety in his address. Saying nothing, he merely nodded, and indicated that Mason should leave.

"A pleasure, Miss Melly," he took her hand and drew it to his lips. "I always enjoy the Irish pub owned by your O'Hara kin. They always are welcoming … no matter the pedigree of the patron, don't you agree?"

He smirked once more, then took his leave, closing the large front door behind him with a loud thump.

"I hope that you are not displeased with me," Jacques addressed Melly, who was staring at the door with bewilderment written all over her face.

"No," she answered readily. "No. You relieved me of a very awkward situation, actually."

He nodded with understanding, as though he had known all along.

"You had the look of a chicken being led to the block when I walked in. That is what Rosemary wanted to say but felt that she could not earlier. I dismissed Mr. Kershaw from my home the summer before last after witnessing him make advances upon my stepdaughter."

"Josepha?" Melly's eyes widened with horror. "But, I thought that - that he -"

"He is skilled at making young women believe whatever he desires them to believe, my dear. He is no gentleman, for all that he pretends to be so. And it is Rhett's fault, mainly, for raising him far above his station…oh dear, I've made you sad, Miss Melly. I am very sorry for that. I am simply glad that I intervened before he had the chance to do something to compromise you."

Melly shook her head, attempting to banish the stunned look from her face. "I didn't - I didn't think that he - but…thank you for telling me, Mr. Rouzan."

"Jacques," he insisted, placing both of his hands on her shoulders. "Call me Jacques."

"Thank you, Jacques…"

The following Saturday was the day of the wedding. About an hour before the ceremony, Melly and her mother were standing before the marble-based pier mirror in Rosemary's guest bedroom and admiring their reflections.

"I look a hundred years old." Scarlett said, setting small black hat at an angle on her head. "That was the last thing your Papa said to me, 'don't you dare go around wearing black for me, Scarlett'."

"Why do you have to, then?" Melly asked seriously. Widows were never expected to wear black in Fernandina, unless by choice. Normally it was far too warm to impose such an impractical clothing restriction.

"I think that I might be stoned here if I did not," Scarlett smiled at her daughter. "I shouldn't be going at all, but Rosemary said that I should and Jacques agreed with her."

Melly leaned against the doorway admiringly as Scarlett splashed a tad of cologne on her white wrists.

"You still look beautiful, Mother. Even in black."

"Thank you, baby." Scarlett replied, turning around and kissing Melly on the forehead. "You're so tall. Stop it. Stop growing."

Melly smiled. "I'm sorry."

"Oh, Melly. My precious Melly."

"Scarlett! Melly!" Rosemary's voice called from down below. "Hurry up, won't you? We're going to be late if you don't."

Mother and daughter quickly descended down the staircase, meeting Rosemary, radiant in orchid silk and her husband, equally well-turned out in a grey suit.

"You look lovely, both of you," Rosemary said genially. "I'm so glad that you decided to come, Scarlett. Melly, I want you to follow me very closely at the reception - there are at least three young gentleman that I know that would be delighted to make your acquaintance."

The short carriage ride saw them to the church five blocks away from the Rouzans' residence, and Melly, Scarlett, Jacques, and Rosemary were soon inside the packed church, clearly filled to capacity. The sounds of soft organ music combined with the quiet chatter of the guests set the very pleasant scene. In short order, the bride made her way to the alter, on the arm of her father, the wedding vows were exchanged and the prayers said; and the party and guests began to adjourn to the bride's family home, a block away from the church.

Melly followed Rosemary closely as ordered, and greeted the young gentleman from Rosemary's church, both friends of the groom. After taking her leave of them, Melly looked around in vain for her mother, thinking that it wouldn't be too difficult to find her in the throng; after all, how many guests would wear black to a wedding?

She weaved her way through the crowd, passing the dessert table and thinking privately that the confections were the loveliest she had ever seen. She caught sight of the hem of Rosemary's dress, then followed it towards the front foyer of the house. Turning the corner, she ran into a gentleman, and made a move to apologize -

"I'm terribly sorry, I …Oh goodness, Rhett! I thought that you were away on business."

"I was," he said in an odd voice, a half-smile on his face. "Yes, I certainly was. How are you, Melly? How are your hands?"

She held them up so that he could see that they were fully functional.

"I'm glad," he said simply.

"Have you seen my mother?" she inquired.

"No," he replied. "I was just going to say hello to her myself."

"Well, she shouldn't be too difficult to spot," Melly commented offhandedly, still feeling a bit awkward around the man. "She's dressed in black."

"Why? Oh - Christ, what a fool I am. I'm sorry, Melly."

"It's fine," she said hastily. "I hope that you find her. If you do, perhaps you can tell her that I went for a short walk."

"Of course," he nodded.

She went the opposite direction as he, this time toward the kitchen, pausing briefly to admire the short cropped hairstyle of a tall blonde; she knew that it was all the rage in England. The girl was chattering animatedly with two men, one short and dark and the other…

"Mason!"

"Miss Melly."

He made his excuse to the girl and his companion and moved toward Melly. "Please tell me that we can slip outside. I've been dying to talk to you without your captors."

Melly felt a thrill run up her spine and took his arm, allowing him to guide her through the kitchen and out the side door.

"Did you see Rhett?" he asked.

"I did."

"I understand that he told you - about - damn, Melly, this is awkward."

"Then why bring it up?" she had to laugh. "Yes, I was told."

"Because I want to know how you feel about it."

"Its not something I particularly want to discuss."

"You know," he said conversationally. "Rhett has over five million dollars."

"Five _million_?" She didn't dream that so much money existed in the world, let alone in the hands of one person.

"Five million. And no children. Well, except…" his voice trailed off, allowing his insinuation to settle in her mind.

"Well, that's all very nice, but I'm sure I don't understand. I'm not…well, what I mean is…I'm not going to bother about five million dollars. You know, I can't even imagine money like that."

"I can."

"Well, you ask him to leave it to you then." She stood up, ready to go back inside.

"Don't be angry with me, Melly," he said, pulling on her arm. "Come, walk with me. My legs need stretching."

"Where?"

He took her hand. "That gazebo looks promising, does it not?"

She shook her head. "No."

"For just a moment. Unless you're afraid?" The challenge in his eyes sparked a desire in her to follow him to the place away from prying eyes.

He pulled her close, closer than ever before. "I've never seen you look lovelier, Melly. Ever since that first day in the library, I've been aching to hold you this way. She felt her temples pulsing as he kissed each eyebrow and each cheek, then her lips - at first lightly - then hungrily, deeply. She could almost hear her heart beating with excitement as he ran a hand across her breasts.

She moaned aloud, "I can't do this."

"Why not, darling? This is what you were made for."

She could hear the voice of her Papa in her head - _a gentleman would take no such liberties, Melly_.

"I can't, I can't. I'm sorry."

He stopped suddenly, then heaved a sigh. "I forgot myself. I apologize."

She breathed an internal sigh of relief. He was concerned for her honor, after all.

"I apologize if you were offended, Melly. I just wanted you to know how badly it is that I want you."

"I want you too," she said throatily, emboldened by his declaration.

"Don't tempt me," he said, then put a hand on her cheek, which was flushed and hot. "You can't go back in there looking like you do. Someone's sure to find out, and I'll be drawn and quartered." He let out a wry chuckle. "Let's walk over to the pub. It'll cool us both down."

She nodded in agreement and walked beside him down the main street, not even holding hands. When he saw her safely to the door of the establishment, he again let out a strange chuckle and said, "I have just remembered something quite urgent back at my hotel that needs my attention. A colleague of mine was due to arrive by train this day to discuss plans for a new project and I've forgotten all about it until now. You look much more presentable now; have a glass of water or whatever it is that ladies drink and head on back without me. I promise…" he leaned his face close to her ear. "…to call tomorrow."

Melly nodded and bid him farewell, feeling a mad desire to rush into the pub and flood Maureen and the rest of the cousins that Mason Kershaw was madly in love with her and they were incandescently happy together.

With a deep sigh of contentment, she found her usual table in the back and took a seat, letting the soft voices of the patrons lull her into a peacefulness she had not felt for weeks.

Not realizing that she had nodded off, Melly was suddenly awakened by a hand on her shoulder.

"Sure and it's a miracle - Miss Melly!"

"Sean!" she stood up in genuine joy to see him and gave him a squeeze.

"It's thankin' God I am that you're well. The fire. It scared the hell outta me. Seein' you lyin' there and all -"

"You were there that night?" she asked, puzzled. "I'm sorry if you were, I just can't recall a thing that happened after they pulled me out."

An odd shadow passed over his face. "Well, t'was a terrible sight. But they're already figurin' on rebuilding the church and school. So t'will be all ready for you in the spring."

She shook her head. "I won't be returning to school, sadly. I was already ahead of most of the other girls, and it just seems a waste of time, these days. My sister is going to have a baby in a few months, and Mother and I want to be on hand to help her…"

"I understand," he said. "Congratulations. And how is your Da then? I'm remembering that he was a bit under the weather."

"Um, well. Actually, Sean. My Papa died. Three weeks ago now. It wasn't completely unexpected…well, I didn't expect it. You never expect it. But he was sick and I…"

He sat down next to her and put an arm on her shoulder and allowed her to rest her head against it. "'Tis never easy, to lose someone. Never. 'Tis no shame in cryin' over it, either."

"I just…its everything, Sean…I feel like I've just been so caught up in everything else that's happened and I've forgotten about him. But then I think about it and I just miss him, so, so, much, you know?"

"I do."

"I'm so sorry. Here I am crying my eyes out to you, and you've probably got lots of things to do."

"None more important than what 'tis I'm doing."

"You're very kind, Sean. One of the genuinely kind people I've ever met."

"Atch, Melly."

"It's true. Thank you. Thank you for everything."

His eyes fixed her, sparkling orbs of Irish blue, his face sun-kissed and radiant. "I wrote something for you. I've thought a' setting it to music, but I haven't played all that much since the fire. 'Twas all the smoke; me voice was a bit hoarse from 'tall."

He pulled an envelope out of his coat pocket and handed it to her.

"You keep it with you?" Melly giggled, wiping away a rogue tear.

"Well," he smiled, cheeks flushed, "I had thought of sending it in the post. But I recalled that your Da was ill, and I didn't think it fittin'."

"Should I open it now?" she asked.

"No. Well, no. Twill make me embarrassed if you don't like it."

"I'm sure that I will," Melly smiled.

"Atch, well, that might be premature." He looked down at his hands. "Do you need me to walk you back somewhere?"

"Oh!" Melly remembered the wedding. The reception would be drawing to a close and they'd all be looking for her. "I'd better go. Thank you, for this, Sean. It was lovely to see you again. Goodbye."

He smiled at her as she hurriedly took her leave, disappearing through the back door of the pub as was her custom and hasting down the street.

"Goodbye…Miss Melly," he said quietly.

* * *

><p><em>NB: Chapters 20-21 were originally one; so this this a T.B.C. … Votes for Team (s) Sean Mason? ~The Scarlett Starlet_


	21. Chapter 21

_**NB**__: Dear readers, I have divvyed from my drafts again, and I hope that all of you that have given me so much support throughout this story will find this chapter fulfilling. Yes, as before, the NB is on top because this chapter contains __**SMUT**__. Now, __**younger readers/those who are not fans of smut**__, you can safely __**read the first portion of this chapter**__, and __**not miss any plot **__at all; I made an effort to give plenty of warning when the smut is at hand. That being said, I still think I can get by with leaving this story rated T(teen), but note that __**reader discretion is advised**__ in this chapter. Alright, happy reading! I continue to love and appreciate all of the feedback! ~The Scarlett Starlet_

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><p>21. <em>Lost Time<em>

The afternoon had been so enjoyable for Scarlett, even though she was privately sure that it had been merely a maneuver by Rosemary to force Rhett by her side. And they had risen to the occasion, she thought, they had shown her just how well they got along now. Not once had a cross word escaped either of their lips. At the time, Scarlett had been having too much fun at the reception to even think of arguing with him. But pretending to be cordial from afar was far easier than pretending while they were sitting side by side at an intimate family gathering, so she had been dreading going down to dinner that night.

She dressed more formally than she had for the wedding, selecting a cream-colored evening gown, high-necked and adorned at the cuffs and neck with tiny white pearls. After all, it was Rhett she was dining with, and she distinctly recalled some offhand comment he had made in Charleston about black not being her best color.

Rhett walked over to a chair at one end of the long table and moved one of the side chairs closer to his and indicated that she should sit next to him.

He had taken the opposite approach - he was casually attired, wearing his white, open-necked shirt and black trousers. She did not feel the need to remark on it. When Rosemary's maid began serving the food, she and Rhett realized that his sister and her husband might not be joining them for dinner after all. Another servant confirmed that.

"Mist' Jacques and Miss Rosemary took the chillens ter Forsythe Park, Mist' Rhett," the man said as he filled Rhett's wine glass, nodding towards the multitude of empty seats at the table.

Scarlett noticed that Rhett's shoulders relaxed immediately.

"Melly isn't going to join us either?" Rhett asked as the veritable feast of fried chicken, boiled shrimp, corn and roasted new potatoes was set before them.

"She's not here," Scarlett replied with obvious disappointment. "My Aunt Pauline invited her for supper after the reception. She's very fond of Melly. You remember Aunt Pauline, don't you?"

"Yes, I know. Your Robillard aunts are both well-acquainted with my mother. In fact, I saw Miss Pauline not too terribly long ago at the Hampton wedding in Charleston. You don't remember?"

"I suppose _you _don't remember that I wasn't there," Scarlett smirked. "Melly was there, as was Wade."

"That's right. I suppose that slipped my mind. Hmm. Far be in for me to give lessons on social mores, but isn't it a bit early to put Melly out in society without her mother present?"

"You're quite correct, Rhett. And I would have been glad to go had I been invited. You see, my list of social invitations grew rather thin after you divorced me. That was the beauty of living in Fernandina. Not so much silliness over such things…"

He leaned closer to her, setting his elbow on the table so that he could rest his head on his hand. He gave her a small smile as she took the liberty of pouring them both more wine. He had such a sensual mouth - age had not changed that. His black eyes flashing, his lips were curled just so that she was wildly attracted to him. Apparently _that _hadn't changed either.

"Ah, thank you." Rhett murmured as he took a sip of wine. "So, I've been meaning to ask, how did you come to live in Florida?"

"What a strange time to ask that," Scarlett laughed. "Well, it was all because of Ashley. He knew that he was ill and being at the mill so much was only making it worse. But even before that, he took Beau and Wade fishing on Jekyll Island and fell in love with the place. Of course, Jekyll is smaller than Amelia and much less inhabited…but even so, all the fancy Yankee families were coming down by the dozens to build winter homes. There was no property available there to buy when we actually began to look seriously…so we found Amelia, and it seemed an idyllic place for the children."

"How old was Melly?"

"Six months old or so. She wasn't walking yet - I remember her first steps on the beach. She loved the water from the start. She ran all over the island as she began to grow, boating and fishing until she was as brown as a pickaninny child. It was hard for me to get her to wear shoes." She laughed aloud at the remembrance.

Rhett let out a chuckle of his own. "I was that way too, when I was that age. I always wanted to be a sailor. I still do, come to think of that."

"A sailor, really? I suppose running the blockade wasn't close enough for you?"

"No, not at all. You've never been sailing, have you, Scarlett?"

She shook her head.

"Lamentable, Mrs. Wilkes. A Floridian that has never been sailing."

"Ashley went sailing several times. Just last year with Beau, they went to North Carolina…" Her voice trailed off, and for a moment Rhett thought that she would begin to weep. She sat up in the high-backed dining chair, straight and tall, not a single tear marring her porcelain, unlined face that was framed by perfectly coiffed jet-black hair.

"It's all happened so quickly, Rhett. The funeral just was a blur. I remember that they wanted me to cover his portrait in black, but I wouldn't allow it. I wanted to see his face. I wanted Melly to see his face…"

"I know that you both miss him," Rhett said evenly as her voice trailed off.

Scarlett met his eyes. "I do miss him, terribly."

"And yet, you're sitting in my sister's home, eating dinner with me?"

"If you think that I'm dishonoring him, then you're a bigger fool than I thought, Rhett Butler."

"I did not say that."

"You implied it. But I do miss him. Even though I have many happy memories of him to comfort me."

Rhett raised an eyebrow. "Those memories…do they allow you to make it through a lonely night by yourself?"

Her eyes flashed with irritation. "I believe that he explained -"

"I want to hear it from your own mouth. Call it morbid curiosity."

"I was never intimate with him, if that's what you mean."

"But you were happy?"

"Happy? Most of the time, quite. Mainly content, I think. I had never actually been content before, you know? Even when I was married to you. How could I be?" It was her turn to direct a challenge his way.

"I take it that I bear responsibility for that."

"I suppose that's one way of looking at it. Of course, if you hadn't been so vile that night, we'd have never gotten into that argument and I'd have never had Melly and would never have married Ashley at all. I might still be Mrs. Butler then - Lord knows how that might have turned out."

He sighed. "I would never wish away Melly. I just wish that I could make up for all the lost time somehow…"

Scarlett cocked her head in interest. "I'm glad that you like her. I rather think that she likes you, too. She might even grow to love you, one day. She has a much greater capacity for love than I do, you know. But that also makes her far more fragile than I was at her age."

"She's stronger in spirit than you think, not to mention how clever she is." Rhett said seriously, "and you know, Scarlett, she deserves to live her own life. I guess you haven't noticed that up until now she has done Ashley's and your bidding. All things social were centered around you two, not her. She's given freely - of course, I believe that is her nature - but it's her turn. If you would like my advice, not that you're seeking it in matters of parenting … nonetheless, it is this: Wade and Ella and you, and even me, should you wish it, will stand guard without her knowing, but mark my words, Melly will prove to be as strong as her mother and do just fine."

"You sound as if you have it all figured out," Scarlett said somberly.

"No, Scarlett, no - I don't have anything figured out. Except for the fact that I love you."

She sat her glass down hard on the table with a loud thump.

"Say it again."

"I love you."

"Say it again."

"I love you, Scarlett. In spite of you and me and the whole silly world - goddamn it, I've said that before, haven't I? Scarlett, I don't know where it will lead me, but I'm an old man and I have no more strength to fight it. And I'm tiring of spending my latter years in the total agony of loving you with no relief."

She stood up from the table, startled by his pronouncement.

"Rhett -"

He stood up and put a finger to her lips.

"You don't have to give me an answer, Scarlett. I realize that it has been years, not months. I realize that I have failed you unspeakably as a husband, as a man. But I stand before you with nothing but my word that I love you unconditionally, always, and forever. When I left you at Tara I regretted it the moment I rode out of the gate. I was drunk and hurt and angry and I didn't want to feel again. And I didn't, Scarlett. For a decade and a half, I felt nothing. Then I heard that Melly was in Atlanta along with Wade and Ella and I went immediately to see her, because I hoped that you might be there."

Scarlett shook her head and attempted to speak through her tears. "You can't mean this, Rhett. It's been so long. So very long."

"I told you once that if you would have let me, I would have loved you more than any man loved any woman. And that offer still stands - if you would only let me make good on it."

He pulled her close to him, not rushing as he had in Charleston.

"Bedroom?" he murmured.

At her assenting nod, he grabbed her hand and pulled her down the hallway to the guest bedroom in which he was residing. She could feel herself seething with anticipation as he closed the door with excruciating slowness.

Abating his hunger, he savored the feel of her body, the taste of her lips and skin as he pulled the gown over her head, revealing her chemise made of white virgin silk. He licked his lips in anticipation as he beheld her breasts, succulent like juicy plums, and the black V between her thighs - the vision made the tingle between his own intensify to new heights. His hand slipped under the back of her drawers to squeeze a plump cheek before he pressed her against his hard body.

In a rush to possess her, he brushed the straps away from her shoulders and placed his lips on her white shoulders. Her skin was white, without any blemish of age, from the tip of her nose down to the valley of her thighs. The chemise was shed completely, then her drawers, and he began to stroke the dark wetness between her legs. She let out a delighted moan of pleasure as she opened herself to receive him. But he wasn't ready yet.

She was so beautiful, he thought as he pulled her up onto his lap and began to stroke her breasts. He kissed her on the lips slowly, softly, feeling the passion between them rising as he did so. Her breathing quickening, she straddled his rising manhood, lowering herself until he was deep inside her. Both of them moaning in pure pleasure, he waited until he could stand it no further, then drove home.

"Rhett…" she murmured. "Oh, Rhett…"

"I don't think I can move," he said huskily, gasping for breath as he held her close to him. She ran her white fingers through his dark hair.

"I love you," she whispered.

Rocking back and forth in the age old rhythm, he felt Scarlett shudder again and again as they made up for lost time…


	22. Chapter 22

22. The Morning After

The morning sun entered through the red velvet and lace covered windows, awakening Scarlett. Stretching luxuriously, she blinked twice and rubbed her eyes, taking in her surroundings - a room of good proportion, well-furnished by a mahogany bed, a matching night table with a reading lamp, a desk and chair and a fireplace on the far wall. There was also a table with a man's shaving mirror, washbowl and pitcher, as well as an armoire.

"Good morning, Scarlett," Rhett said, politely bowing. He was already dressed.

"Oh," she pulled the covers higher to cover her dishabille. "You're still here."

He let out a wry chuckle. "Yes, I'm still here. I was watching you sleep."

"The morning sun hits me most unfavorably," she pulled the covers a little higher over her body. "Would you mind looking away while I dress?"

He roared with laughter at that. "It does nothing but accent your charms, Scarlett. All of which I was able to get a good look at last night."

"You're a skunk, Rhett Butler. I suppose you haven't thought about what your sister will say when I emerge from your bedroom at this hour?"

He shrugged. "She'll probably say that it was a long time coming. And she's right, I suppose."

"Fiddle-dee-dee. If not her then one of the servants will see and it'll be all over town and Melly won't be able to hold her head up and-"

He had moved over to the bed and put a finger on her lips.

"I don't care. They can all go to the devil. We'll go away if we have to, London, Paris, Mexico - wherever, Scarlett. We'll take Melly with us if she wants to go, of course, or we'll leave her at Ella's. Last night, I felt alive for the first time in years. I want to feel that way again, Scarlett. And, despite my best efforts over the years to convince myself otherwise, I only feel this way when you are close to me."

"Melly!" Scarlett stood up with a start. "Great balls of fire, I never checked on her last night. She'll be wondering where I am. Oh Rhett, do turn around while I dress."

He shook his head. "No, Mrs. Wilkes. No, I will not."

She heaved a sigh. "You're a despicable, ill-mannered varmint."

He laughed. "I was under the impression that those very qualities were what rendered me so very charming."

"Rhett!"

"Fine. I'm going downstairs for breakfast. But I warn you, Scarlett - if you aren't dressed by the time I return, you can expect a repeat performance of last night."

She raised an eyebrow. "So soon?"

"Scarlett. You are lying mother naked in my bed. What do you take me for?"

With a wry grin, he moved towards the door and exited. "You know, there's no need for embarrassment, we were married for seven years!" he said before the door closed. She had to have heard him, but she made no indication of it and he walked towards the dining room, hoping that he would have beaten his sister and her family to the breakfast table.

Unfortunately, it was Melly sitting at the table in the smaller breakfast room. He had done nothing untoward last night, he reassured himself, it was inevitable - not to mention Ashley's last bequest. But why did his gut wrench in Melly's presence, as though he had betrayed her?

"You've risen rather late," Melly said with some disapproval as Rhett took the seat across from her.

Rhett stared at her. Surely she couldn't be _that_ perceptive.

"Where is my mother this morning?" Melly inquired coolly.

Rhett didn't answer, he was saved by the maid who had just arrived with a tray and set it down before him.

"More shrimp," he commented, attempting a pleasant tone. "Jacques's taste never fails…of course, it's always good. Do you enjoy shrimp, Melly? I suppose you would have to, being raised where you were…"

She blinked twice before answering. "I find it quite tolerable."

He grit his teeth, then as quickly he relaxed his jaw.

"Of course, I can't imagine Mammy tolerating too much seafood in her household…she had views on that sort of thing. Not that I held it against her of course, she's one of the few servants I remember fondly. In fact, I wish that I would have been able to see her-"

"Mammy is not a servant," Melly said emphatically. "My Papa didn't believe in keeping servants. We paid Widow Dewes to come and clean for us twice a week, and aside from that we were quite self-sufficient."

From the expression on her face, Rhett could assume that she'd cast the blame entirely on him for her mother's deflection. Scarlett would have to talk to her. She wasn't a child, she had to be told, eventually. For his part, he'd evoke all the charm he possessed to make her like him, at the very least.

"I admire the efficiency of your household very much. I tend that way myself. For instance, I myself do not keep a cook…if there's no food around when I feel like eating, I make do without."

_Or I go to the nearest hotel. _

She nodded, then remembered her original query. "Where did you say my mother was?"

_Damn it, Scarlett - how long does it take you to dress?_

"Still asleep," Rhett said, "…I believe." Immediately that alluring image of Scarlett in bed returned to his mind.

"I suppose she's unaccustomed to the late hours of Miss Rosemary's household," Melly said, her tone again filled with disdain. "Of course, it seemed as though the entire house was sleeping by nine o'clock. Mother never came in, though. And I was up until at least three in the morning." She glared accusingly at Rhett.

"Not at all," Rhett muttered. "I'm afraid that it was my fault for keeping her awake at all hours. You see, Melly, we had a deal to discuss."

Melly muttered something under her breath, and Rhett chose to ignore it in favor of a more neutral topic.

"My friend Mr. Kershaw mentioned that he would be calling today. I was under the impression that his intention was to call upon you in particular…"

Rhett thought that he caught her smile, if only for a second. She was no different than any other young girl, after all - perhaps it would be easier than he imagined to win her over.

"You know, I have known Mason since he was in diapers. His mother was a very dear friend of mine, before she passed, and I've always looked out for his interests…"

She raised a brow. "Am I his _interest_?"

Rhett blushed at that. God, she was blunt. He could only hope that she didn't mention this conversation to Scarlett - the subject of Belle Watling had never sat well with her, after all, and the idea of her precious Melly and Belle's boy…

"Whose interest are you, darling?" With a flash of red lips and cheeks, Scarlett was at Melly's side, her skin creamy against the black velvet of her gown.

"Ask him," Melly answered her mother.

"Its unimportant," Rhett mumbled. "Just a young man who is interested in Melly, that's all."

"So that's what kept you yesterday afternoon! You forgot to mention that the mysterious Mason was in attendance at the wedding - I would have hoped to meet him."

"I'm surprised that you haven't met him before, Mother. After all, Rhett's just told me that he's known him his entire life."

"Really?" Scarlett asked pointedly, "Rhett must have forgotten to mention it to me, sweet. I was under the impression that you were some sort of business associates. Well, pray tell me Rhett, however did you and Mason become so intimately acquainted?"

Rhett sighed. Now Scarlett would think that she had caught him in a lie. There was nothing to do but state the truth, no matter how poorly it would reflect upon him.

"I did indeed meet Mason as an infant. I even agreed to take guardianship of the boy as a favor to his mother, a Mrs. Belle Watling, who I believe you were familiar with, Scarlett.."

"Well no wonder you _forgot _to mention that to me," Scarlett said testily.

"I didn't think it necessary, given the circumstances."

"Didn't think it was necessary - when you know that I have permitted my daughter to be courted by the child of that woman?"

"You're amazing, Scarlett, you know that? Can you never forgive me for anything?"

"Well, you never forgave me for Ashley, did you?"

"Well as both parties are now deceased, I suppose they are a non-issue, are they not?"

"Was that supposed to be a joke? Do you honestly think I've forgotten it - have you? Do you really think I would allow her son to come near this place and leave my daughter unprotected around him after what you did to me? I forbid it. Absolutely not, Melly. Do not argue with me. We'll discuss it all later, and as for Rhett, he can tell Mr. Kershaw that his plans for seducing my child are at an end."

Melly stared up at her mother, eyes widened. "Do I look like a child who needs to be told who I can associate with and who I cannot?"

"Yes you do - you look exactly like my child. You are fifteen years old, Melly. I thought I was in love at fifteen and trust me, it was the beginning of the worst mistake of my life."

"Its not your decision!" Melly cried and fled from the table.

"Scarlett," Rhett said tentatively. "If you could overlook your prejudices for one second, you might realize -"

"No. Absolutely not. Belle Watling's son, for God's sake, Rhett!"

"He likes Melly, honestly. He's not going to compromise her."

"He can like her all he wants, but I'll be damned if she throws her life away for some bastard son of that Belle!"

Rhett's mouth formed a thin line.

"And if I disagree?"

"You know where I stand. If you desire anything more to do with me, you'll abide by my wishes. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to talk to Melly."

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><p><em><strong>NB<strong>__: Dear readers,__ I continue to love and appreciate all of the feedback! Thank you, thank you, for the continued support of this story~The Scarlett Starlet_


	23. Chapter 23

23. _On Character_

The suspense was killing Melly as she paced up and down the Rouzans' front porch, squinting into the bright sunlight and wishing that Mason would hurry. He should have been there over an hour ago. When he had called before, he had always been punctual, if not ahead of schedule - why did he have to be late today of all days?

Finally, she saw him round the street corner and immediately rushed forward to the gate to greet him. Without any hesitation, he took her in his arms and hugged and kissed her with all his might, seemingly uncaring as to who might have been watching.

"Set me down! Mason! Set me down!" she said over peels of laughter, "You're mussing my clothes and all of the neighbors are watching us!"

"To hell with them," he set her down with a slow, lingering kiss on the cheek. Holding her by both arms, he looked her over from head to toe. "Well, lookee here how the flower has blossomed even in the cold weather we've been having. And here I was thinking that you'd spent the evening pining your little heart out for me…I certainly was - all of the lonely night…"

Her eyes sparkling with pleasure at his comment, she slipped an arm through his for the short walk up to the front porch.

"Rhett wanted to talk to you before we went for a walk," she said, "…my mother doesn't desire me to see you anymore, but luckily he intervened. I suppose that I must be grateful to him for that much…"

Mason smirked. "Well, I'm surprised your mother relented and allowed you to see me at all. Why the change of heart?"

"It has nothing to do with me, believe me. I do believe that Rhett is the only thing on her mind at the present moment." A frown appeared on Melly's face as she thought of the unpleasant situation. Her eyes clouded over as she spoke. "I think she's tired of fighting it…"

Stopping at the front porch steps, Mason held both of her arms tight and stared deeply into her misting eyes.

"But still, I'll be on my best behavior. She's prevailed upon him to do this or that in the past, and I can't imagine that she'd suddenly be so accepting."

"Well, if you must know, Rhett assured her that there was nothing serious between you and I, so there was no reason for her to fret."

Mason laughed wryly. "Nothing serious, eh? I suppose that its best that way."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing at all. Come on, let's get this welcome home over with - then we can have our time together to catch up." Melly felt her heart skip a beat as he looked down at her with a wink.

Upon entering the house, Mason was greeted with a firm handshake from Rhett and an almost-smile. Rosemary and Jacques and the younger Rouzan children were all afoot, flashing Mason glares as he followed Melly into the parlor, Rhett close behind.

Taking Melly aside, he whispered softly in her ear so as not to be overheard, "We must be on our best behavior indeed if we want to make the most of your time here. He'll have us under constant watch this afternoon. Bide your time until you can slip out later tonight, after everyone's asleep."

A hush seemed to fall over the room as Scarlett entered, followed by none other than her son, Wade Hampton, who rushed over to Melly and managed to move her away from Mason in a matter of seconds, leaving Mason free to talk to Rhett privately.

"This room seems charged with electricity," Mason said. "Rosemary twitters and you and Jacques preen your feathers. Even Wade…when did he get in, by the by?"

"This morning," Rhett answered, his eyes not leaving Scarlett as she spoke to her son and daughter. "You mentioned the energy of the room…I believe that its always the same with Scarlett - its not anything that she does, its what she naturally is."

Mason looked incredulous. "You sound like a schoolboy, old man. Your evening surely couldn't have been _that_ fulfilling?"

"Oh ye of little faith," Rhett raised an eyebrow.

Mason's lips twitched as he sought to hold back his laughter, "I suppose the better question would have been…were you still able to please _her_ after all these years?"

Rhett looked appalled at the insinuation. "What is it you take me for - a damned eunuch?"

Mason snorted. "Well, one never knows…I only mentioned it because of a previous conversation you and I shared outside New Orleans last year…You don't recall it? Allow me to jog your memory. You were concerned about not being able to…ah…finish what you started…"

"You've got a mouth on you that I'd like to wash out," Rhett retorted.

"Well, I'm glad for you, in truth. Scarlett is still a beautiful woman…I'm not surprised that she inspires passion in you."

"Will you shut up? Come over here, I need to speak with you about a more pressing matter."

Following the older man to the dining room, Mason allowed Rhett to pour them both a sherry from the sideboard before they both settled into two chairs overlooking the gardens.

"Well?"

"I spent the morning reassuring Scarlett that I would speak to you. And it's not what you think - I'm not going to chastise you, Mason. I'm merely interested in your intentions, that's all."

"Listen, Rhett, you know that I would never put my name at risk…I'm already in a tight enough spot as it is…"

"Yes, but you'd be willing to drag Melly into your dirt?"

"I'm sure that I don't understand."

"I know you're in debt up to your eyeballs and you can't pay for your townhouse here in town. I know that you've tried to sell your part of Belle's place, with no luck…"

"What if I have? It doesn't look right these days to have a stake in a sporting house, no matter how fine of one it is. I might want to marry one day."

"You want to marry Melly?"

Mason shrugged. "Not now. Not soon. I don't have the money, as you said."

"I meant eventually."

"I wouldn't dream of making such an offer to her without asking your blessing and consent."

"I understand that you tried the same thing with Josepha last year."

Mason smirked. "No offense to your niece, but I was neither the first nor the last man she's toyed with."

"That's not the issue here. I gave my word to Scarlett that you would not compromise Melly- "

"You know, Rhett, why the sudden interest? You never seemed to mind when she was Ashley Wilkes's daughter…"

"Whoa, hold on, fellow. Don't you dare take me for a fool, young man. You know as well as I do where my interest lies. Do you think that my daughter, my child, with her Butler and Robillard blood should be shackled to a debt-ridden son of a courtesan that depends upon my charity for survival? Answer me that."

"I was under the impression that my pedigree was irrelevant to you. After all, my dearly departed mother was good enough for you to bed all those years."

"Bed but not wed, boy. I gave you everything, Mason, money, education…hell, a name!"

"Melly loves me, Rhett. Like it or not. She loves me. Surely that counts for something."

"Loves you, bah. A child's love, perhaps. She loves the feeling of freedom that you provide, the rebellion that she's never been allowed to partake in - that's the extent of it. But as for you, I very much doubt that your interest in her would have grown so much had her recent fortune not come into play. You know, I presume, that when I die, she'll stand to inherit the five million and change?"

Mason's expression was blank, but his tone was heated as he said, "How dare you accuse me - I had no idea who she was when I met her, God's truth, I did not."

"I believe that," Rhett answered. "But you know now. And you know now my feelings on the matter. But I'll do this, for fairness' sake. I will get you a hundred thousand dollars, cash. That will surely give you ample means with which to pay your debts and establish your business further. It will also - I assume - provide Madame Celeste with enough compensation to see her through the bearing of your child."

Mason's face went white. "But how did you -"

"She's absolutely charming when she needs money, charming enough to try and force her bastard on me - but mathematics has always been a strong suit of mine, and I am well aware that I've not shared her bed in the past eighteen months…as you so deftly reminded me, it's been since our…conversation…in New Orleans. That left me with one other obvious alternative - you."

"This is completely irrelevant - you were young once. You made errors of judgment in your day."

"I did - but you will not drag my daughter into yours. Look, Mason. Take the money, see what you can do with it, and then, in three or four years we can have this conversation again. If you still have feelings for Melly then and she for you, well, I will make no objection…"

In the parlor, Melly was standing guard at the closed dining room door, wondering what sort of discussion was taking place behind it. Her mother had warned her away from Mason in no uncertain terms, then had burst into tears at the mention of his mother, one Belle Watling. It was such a tangled web - and Melly truly didn't understand it all. If Wade hadn't shown up, it would have been an even more awful morning than it already had been. If her mother had noticed her discomfort, she did not show it; instead, she and Rosemary had their heads together discussing the new summer fashions as they looked through a fashion-plate book that Wade had brought back with him from his recent trip to New York City.

Wade rose from the settee and kissed Scarlett on the cheek, then walked over to Melly and put an arm around her shoulder. "Come on, lets take a walk. I need to walk off breakfast and enjoy the sights. Also, its going to be Mother's birthday before too long and I need your advice on my decision of either a new pair of gloves or a new hat for her."

Melly cast one last look of longing at the dining room, but dutifully took her brother's arm as he led her out the front door.

"Lets go into that shop," Wade motioned towards the main street. "There's a velocipede the likes of which I bet you'd never see in Fernandina. Also, there are all sorts of pretty dolls…"

"I'm too old for such things," Melly scoffed, but had to let out an sigh of awe as she crossed the threshold of the shop. After they had been greeted by the shopkeeper, she could no longer feign indifference, and was off like a child let loose in a fantasy land.

"Look at all of these darling things!" she exclaimed, picking up a rosy-cheeked fashion doll. "Ella had one that looked like this, with a china face. I broke her when I was little and I felt so dreadful…I hid it under my bed for ages until I finally couldn't hide it anymore…"

"Well, let's buy it for her," Wade said good-naturedly, "Look at that one - it looks like Mother did when she was young."

The fashion doll was about eighteen inches high, its raven hair exquisitely coiffed, with glass eyes and painted lashes.

Melly giggled. "Perhaps you should buy it for her then."

"Nah, she'd not appreciate it like Ella would. See one that you like?"

After a few moments of holding the first one, she turned to her brother with the fashion doll in her arms.

As Wade purchased the two dolls and saw that they were appropriately packaged, Melly stepped outside the shop's door and stood waiting on the street.

"Well," Wade said, appearing next to her with the packages in his arm, "Where to next, Madam?"

"Home?"

He shook his head. "I want to keep walking."

"But Mason -"

"Can surely come calling another day."

"Wade!"

"No. Don't."

"You sound like Mother when you do that."

"What?"

"Say 'no'. You rarely say it and it comes out so firmly."

"Well, I mean it."

"But you must understand it, Wade. You know how it feels to be in love."

"As a matter of fact, I do. You don't, honey. You know how it feels to have a crush. A girlish fancy. That passes. Its like playing poker, Melly. Its all about risks. And you wouldn't want to bet your entire fortune your first game…right?"

"Only some of it?" Melly said puckishly.

"Twisting my words, Melly. No, what I was attempting to say, clearly very inarticulately, is that you should hold your cards now, learn how to play the game - then you get a big payoff in the end. A man who respects you and admires you. Just as I do, and we all do."

"I very much doubt you'd be saying this to me if I were a boy. It isn't fair though, Wade, you must see that. One should not have to go through life without experiencing any sort of pleasure because one is female, for God's sake!"

He shook his head in amusement.

"Well, we shouldn't! I'm not a fragile, delicate flower incapable of making a decision beyond selecting the evening's menu. When I marry, I want a husband that can talk to me, not one who concentrates solely upon making money and can't be bothered with anything else. Papa wanted something more out of me, at least. Mother doesn't…well…I don't suppose she's thinking of anything anymore besides Rhett."

Seeing the look of anguish upon his sister's face, Wade stopped laughing and put his free arm around her.

"Don't you understand? How I feel?"

Wade wiped away her tears with his handkerchief and kissed her on the cheek. "Both Mother and Rhett have good intentions and be it as it may, all in all, I like the way you have turned out."

He punctuated his words with a hug, then steered her in the direction of the O'Hara pub. "It'll make you feel better. Besides, you may not get to return to Savannah for quite some time. After Ella's baby comes, I doubt if you'll have much time for visiting…"

Entering the overcrowded music hall, both Wade and Melly were immediately swallowed up by the crowd, which consisted of all of the O'Hara's, Jamie, Pauline, and Maureen, among others. Working their way toward a table, Melly spied Sean McGinnis out of the corner of her eyes, standing alongside the wall.

"Shall we dance?" Wade yelled over the loud music as he set down his parcels.

"What?"

"Dance?"

Melly laughed. "I know this one - its nearly done."

She was correct, the dance was over quickly. Inside of the hall an air of excitement was at fever pitch; Jamie O'Hara stood in the middle of the dance floor and made his announcement: "Now, for the las' time in Savannah, its me great honor to present for ye, Mr. Sean McGinnis, who sails for the fair Isle in just two days time. He's gonna sing us a song he wrote himself - poor laddie. We'll sure miss ye, son. Surely we will."

The crowd let out a sigh of discontent at the news that their best entertainer was leaving so soon, but it quickly subsided to applause, which the young Irishman waved off with good grace as he made his way toward the stage, guitar in hand.

"Key, Sean?" the fiddler inquired.

"Er - " Sean began, then Melly felt his eyes lock into hers, fixing her with a hard stare. "Right. David, I'll take this one by meself, if 'tis all the same to you."

At the other's nod, Sean began to sing, his voice heavy, raw, and sensual:

_Well black is the color of me true love's hair_

_Her lips are like some roses fair_

_She's the sweetest face and the gentlest hands._

_I love the ground whereon she stands_

_I love me love and well she knows_

_I love the ground whereon she goes_

_Sometimes I wish, the day will come_

_That she and I, will be as one._

_Black is the color of me true love's hair_

_Her lips are like some roses fair_

_She's the sweetest face and the gentlest hands._

_I love the ground whereon she stands_

_I walk to the Clyde for to mourn and weep_

_But satisfied I ne'er can be_

_I'll write her a letter, just a few short lines_

_And suffer death ten thousand times_

_Black is the color of me true love's hair_

_Her lips are like some roses fair_

_She's the sweetest face and the gentlest hands._

_I love the ground whereon she stands._

Wade stood up and led the crowd in a rousing ovation as Sean finished, then took a bow. His eyes did not leave Melly - if she looked close enough she could have sworn that she saw a tear fall down one ruddy cheek.

"See there, Melly," Wade nudged her. "Wait until you meet a man who says something like that to you and means it."

Melly sighed to herself, realization washing over her like tidal wave. She didn't need to wait for another man to say those words to her. Someone already had said them - well - sung them. She took a sharp breath as she leaned her head back against the seat, closed her eyes, then opened them again. Calmly she said, "Wade, would you wait here for me for just a minute? I need to speak with someone."

Her eyes snapped back to the middle of the room as he nodded his assent. The music and dancing had begun again, but Sean McGinnis was nowhere to be seen. She gave a start as Wade suddenly gave her shoulder a squeeze.

"Who're you looking for Melly? I've lost track of time, Mother's going to be wondering we're we've gotten off to."

"Alright," Melly said, her eyes scanning the room one last time. He was gone. And she would not see him again. She felt hot tears sting her eyes as she turned to go, as if she was leaving a tiny portion of her heart at the pub.

"You weren't interested in that Sean fellow, were you, Melly?" Wade asked, casting a worried glance her way.

"No, of course not," Melly replied, but the tears probably gave away the lie.

* * *

><p><em>NB: Sean's song is called "Black is the Color (Of My True Love's Hair); it was popularized by Irish folk singer Christy Moore, but it is of unknown origin - first known to be sung in Appalachia in 1915... So... I'd like to think that the author was some young songwriter experiencing unrequited love. <em>

_All that to say, we're coming in on the home stretch of this story. _

_Again, THANK YOU, THANK YOU for the words of encouragement! ~The Scarlett Starlet_


	24. Chapter 24

24. _Like Old Times_

Scarlett must have yawned three times on the way back upstairs. She didn't have a good handle on how she'd manage the combined lack of sleep and her attraction to Rhett - clearly the two were incompatible. She sighed in frustration and tried to think of another way to explain to Melly why they were sharing a bed without actually telling her anything of the sort, but as tired as she was, she couldn't think clearly - obviously, or she wouldn't be walking down the hallway toward Rhett's room again.

He was staring broodingly out the window, his hair mused. Obviously he had gotten some sleep, for all that he was still wearing his dinner jacket and a loose cravat. He was, as always, a contradiction, half aristocrat, half pirate - still handsome, even at his age. It made her wonder what he'd really been doing all these years. What had made him so unconventional? What still made him so damn desirable?

A muscle ticked in his jaw, as though he sensed her presence.

"Did you speak to that miserable boy?"

She regretted asking the question the moment after she'd blurted it out. This was clearly not the time to discuss it, not when he was so dangerously quiet - but she had the right to know the truth, didn't she? After all, it was her daughter's heart at stake.

He didn't look at her at all as he responded. "Yes. Yes, I did."

In truth, she hadn't expected as much, for all that the mysterious Mason had left the house earlier with a big grin plastered on his face.

"You did?"

"I did."

"And?"

He glanced at her, a half-smile forming on his lips.

"Do you really wish to hear the particulars as long as I secured for you the desired outcome?"

"Which is?"

"Damn it, Scarlett. He leaves tonight, promises to leave Melly alone. What more do you need to convince you?"

"You're angry, I assume -"

"No. I'm not angry, Scarlett. Merely tired. An effect of age, perhaps."

"Oh, fiddle-dee-dee, Rhett. You're not all _that_ old."

Again the half-smile. "What a relief. Thank you for that reassurance, my pet."

"Don't tease me now, Rhett," Scarlett said, taking a seat at the foot of his bed. "I came here tonight because I wanted to talk to you. Really talk to you."

He raised an eyebrow. "Unlike last night?"

Scarlett blushed. "Yes, unlike last night."

He gave her his full attention, so hesitantly she began. "I think that we need to discuss our options."

"You sound as if you're making me a business proposition, my dear. Shall we sign a contract, exchange hostages -"

"Oh hush your mouth, Rhett. I only care about Melly. She's upset enough over this, as it is…but if you would be willing to try - "

"Try? My dear, I _tried_ for seven years. Hell, I tried last night. And the first thing out of your mouth is rant about Belle."

"Well, do you blame me?"

"Yes, Scarlett. I do blame you. I blame you for choosing Ashley over me, time and time again - but you know, I don't believe that I've said a bad word against him, especially not in front of Melly. But you, you take the liberty of exposing my lifetime of sins in front of her, in denouncing Mason's mother as a whore - "

"She _was_ a whore!"

"She might have been, Scarlett, but is that any reason to say it in front of Melly? I make a baby step forward with the girl and you set me ten steps backward at every turn. I can't wait to see how she reacts when she learns that I've sent Mason away."

"She's sensible. She'll fall in love with someone else, someone suitable this time," Scarlett said emphatically.

"Her parents couldn't seem to accomplish that sort of feat, could they, Scarlett?" he said wryly.

"We're a different sort entirely. Melly is much different from either one of us."

He laughed. "She's entirely too much like you. With a healthy dose of Ashley. And the tiniest bit of myself, round the nose and chin."

"God's nightgown, Rhett! Nose and chin, you're crazy. She's you all over, the nose, the lips, the skin…"

"Features I've been complemented on in the past…"

"By whom, women like that Belle?"

"God damn it, Scarlett."

"Well?"

"You just can't leave well enough alone, can you? Even if we were to try…well…it would be a disaster of the highest order, my dear."

She sighed. "You're probably right about that. It's been a long time, after all. So, where will you go, after we leave? Back to Charleston?"

"For awhile. My business takes me all over the country though. I never stay in one place for long."

"And you like that sort of existence?"

"Like it? I love it - I've spent a significant amount of time in California, in recent years. It's a completely different way of life from what we're used to, you know, harsh at times. Many Southerners who try to make the trip soon wilt and return home."

"You didn't. Return home."

"I suppose that I adapted readily because I had no home to return to."

He turned back toward the window, as if he had been reminded of why exactly he hadn't had a home to go back to. Scarlett looked shamefacedly down at her lap, a feeling of sadness overwhelming her. She almost wished that she hadn't pried at all. A part of her had died when she had signed those divorce papers all those years before, but now, she was right back where she had started, too attached to him, half in love with him…

"I'll begin packing tomorrow," she promised him, "You needn't -"

Sharply he cut in, "You're leaving?"

No sigh of relief? He actually sounded…aggrieved?

She grit her teeth and set her jaw firmly. "Yes, of course. Neither of us expected or wanted this to happen. Last night was…lovely. Let's not spoil it."

"Your servant," he said, his voice far away as if he was contemplating something else.

"You're more than welcome to visit us," Scarlett said, a tightness forming painfully within her chest. "You can see Melly whenever you'd like. Ashley wanted it. I'd…like it."

"When I can," he said brusquely, his demeanor noticeably changed. "I'm leaving."

He walked past her and started to open the door.

"Wait!" she cried. "Where can I reach you?"

"Scarlett, if you need to contact me, you can reach my lawyer…as always."

"Rhett! You can't just walk out of here like this, we've not settled a thing. You're not thinking - its just like last time!" she cried in desperation.

He stared at her for a long moment before he said, "There's one difference, my dear…you could always come with me. But mark my words, I'm not going to stay in this city another day if its not with you. If there's no train to California leaving tomorrow, I'll take a ship to Nassau instead. If you take Melly and go to Tara, I want to make damn sure that I'm far away from the temptation. So take it or leave it, Scarlett. You've got the rest of the night to mull it over."

"Just like that? I have to decide to either marry you or never see you again?"

He shook his head adamantly. "If the immediate response does not come to you, Scarlett, then perhaps its best that you don't think about it. I'll be going…"

"Stop!" she shrilled. "Just - stop."

He paused at the doorway, his hand white-knuckled from squeezing the doorknob.

"I love you, Rhett Butler. You said once that you would have thanked God, fasting, to hear me say it. Now I'm saying it again, just so you don't miss it. I love you. I've never stopped. Even when you didn't love me anymore. Even when you left me after Melanie died. Even when you slammed the door in my face at Charleston. Even after you sent me those damn divorce papers. I _never_ stopped."

He stood there, speechless.

She threw her arms up. "You understand me, don't you?"

"I see your general idea," he said finally, then chuckled, as if he were remembering a private joke.

"Is there something amusing about what I have just said?" Scarlett asked sharply.

"Nothing at all, Scarlett. I merely recalled something that I said on the occasion of my first leave-taking…something about not having the patience or desire to see you at forty-five…"

She snorted in indignation. "Forty_-four_, thank you very much!"

He drew in a short breath and said softly: "I suppose that it was worth the wait."

* * *

><p><em>NB: Dear readers, you get a present (2 chapters in a 24 hour period!) - I hope that you all have enjoyed reading as much as I've enjoyed writing…We are nearing the epic conclusion of this saga -<em> _Again, (I can't say it enough) THANK YOU, THANK YOU for the words of encouragement! ~The Scarlett Starlet_


	25. Chapter 25

25. A Family

The decision to leave Savannah with Rhett was not as difficult for Scarlett to make as it should have been - in fact, she had made it before she had even entered his bedroom, Mason be damned, the rest of them be damned. Stepping out into the hallway, she called for one of Rosemary's maids and told the girl, "Have mine and my daughter's trunks packed today, Captain Butler's too. He'll be accompanying us to Jonesboro."

She glanced down the long corridor to Melly's half-opened door, knowing that the hardest part of that decision was still to come. Melly was bound to be upset over the Mason business as well as with Scarlett herself for the perceived unfaithfulness to Ashley's memory. She didn't like to admit that she had failed at anything, but her failure to communicate with her daughter on all of those points was perhaps the biggest of her life. She had to make it right now, she just had to. "Ashley," she addressed him internally, "please help me make this easier to say…"

Melly was in her room, but not in her bed. She was slumped into a chair, reading a letter, her face screwed up with the effort of reading the miniscule penmanship, tongue clamped between her teeth. Upon further inspection, Scarlett could see the tears falling freely down her daughter's cheeks.

"Baby, what is it?" Scarlett said worriedly. "What's wrong?"

Melly wiped her face with the back of her hand and sighed at her mother's expectant look, stiffening her spine and giving her a hard stare.

"It's nothing, Mother. Nothing important."

"Well, its important enough for you to cry over, isn't it?"

Melly frowned as she said carefully, "There's no reason for me to cry. Not one at all."

"I take it that you're reading some correspondence from a young man, am I right?"

Melly nodded.

"Mason?"

"No," Melly shook her head.

"Great balls of fire, Melly - how many young men have you?"

"None, indeed."

Scarlett sighed. "I'm sorry, baby, I shouldn't have asked that. But when that wretched Mason was here, you appeared to be getting along so well with him, I got the notion that you hadn't met anyone else. Well, tell me about him, Melly. Might something still come of it?"

Feeling a tightness in her throat, Melly glanced away before answering her mother. "He likes me…no…he loves me. I don't know why he does - we're not the least bit suited for one another. He's as poor as anything, he lives for adventure. He spends all of his time writing music…I can't possibly be meant for such a life, can I?"

Scarlett shook her head and drew her daughter close. "Is his lack of fortune the only thing holding you back?"

Melly wished her mother hadn't asked that. She could feel a blush mounting her cheeks.

"You yourself expressed the same concern about Mason, Mother," Melly countered.

Scarlett shook her head adamantly. "I found out Mason Kershaw's credentials along with you. I was frightened, yes, by the fact that he is Belle Watling's natural child. I'll be the first to admit my dislike of that woman…for all that I can't exactly claim that I was a wronged wife in those days. I brought it on myself, largely. No, Melly, I would have overcome my initial shock if he had proven himself to be a worthy young man. Financially secure would have been nice. Undying devotion to you would have overshadowed all that - but Melly, he's…"

"I know," Melly interjected. "I know about everything. Wade discussed it with me. I appreciated his candor. I believe that even I was starting to see him for what he was. His interest in me increased tenfold once he realized my connection to Rhett…Sean has no idea…"

Scarlett raised an eyebrow. "Sean? I don't believe that I met anyone by that name at the wedding."

"Well, he wasn't there, of course."

"Oh. So he's…"

"Not in society. Not even imitation gentry like Mason."

"I see…"

"He's from Ireland. And he's going back. Oh, Mother!" Melly wailed. "I didn't even get to say goodbye. And I'll never see him again."

Scarlett winced. "Oh, baby. He's from Ireland?"

Melly nodded. "You see, don't you? Its not as if we'll cross paths by accident."

"Has he left, you think? We could ask Maureen where he lives…"

"No," Melly shook her head firmly. "What good will that do, besides make it worse than it already is?"

"I just don't want you to regret not -"

"Not what, saying thank you but no? I think that I should allow him the dignity of not hearing that from me. Its not as if he'll not find someone else, someone from home, someone better suited to his temperament."

Scarlett nodded, "I understand, darling."

Melly cleared her throat. "Was there something else, Mother?"

Scarlett took her daughter's hand in her own and stroked it. "I've invited Rhett to return to the County with us."

"I see…"

"I know that you know, baby…you've always been very perceptive."

Melly raised an eyebrow. "You mean, I presume, the fact that you've left Rhett's room in your underclothes the past two mornings?"

Scarlett's face flushed crimson. "Well, in my defense, there's more to it than that."

"Wade tried to explain to me. And he did. He and Beau explained it well enough."

"But you need to hear it from me. I should have told you long ago…Its just, I was so angry at Rhett. Not that I didn't deserve it. I was not a good wife. I was not a good mother. Your Papa helped me to better myself on both counts."

"But you didn't really love him. It was all a lie."

"No. It was not a lie. It was a case of us needing one another in our darkest hours. When his wife died, his whole purpose for living died along with her. And when Rhett left, I had just lost Melly. And Bonnie. And another baby…I fell down a stairwell and I miscarried…It was so hard, Melly. But you were born, and Ashley and I both had a reason to carry on…you."

"If you loved Rhett so much, why not tell him about me?"

"I think that even he would have been highly skeptical, back then. There had been a lot of talk, well before you were even a thought - back when we lived in Atlanta. Ashley and I were sort of…well…caught in a compromising position. So, I'm not sure he would have believed me. That and I was very frightened that he might have tried to take you away from me. It would have killed me, Melly, killed me."

"He loved Bonnie very much, didn't he?"

Scarlett nodded. "More than anything. She was easy to love. She was like my Pa…full of herself."

"I wonder if she would have been like me…" Melly mused.

"You remind me more of my Mother. Your kindness and courage. You're very different from Bonnie - you were always very different from her. But if she'd lived, perhaps…no…there's no benefit in dwelling on it. I wouldn't change anything. Not for the world."

Melly smiled. "I love you, Mother. I'm very glad to see you happy…"

Scarlett chuckled at her. "Don't let your imagination run wild, baby. There is so much to discuss, so many amends to be made up…the feelings won't assuage themselves over two nights, no matter how fulfilling. But we're committed to forming some sort of family…"

Melly understood what she was getting at. "So, I should not be caught off-guard if you beat me to the alter?"

Scarlett laughed. "What for, my reputation is already in shambles, is it not, by Atlanta standards? Oh, I'm teasing…your position is foremost in my mind. I do believe that _if_ that was an option, it would not be necessary until after you're safely married."

Melly sighed. "I shan't marry. Please don't hold me to that, Mother. I am convinced that I am the most unlucky of girls in matters of the heart."

Scarlett shook her head. "You've dealt with this with remarkable poise. It takes nothing to fall in love with the wrong person, but it takes a great deal of maturity to recognize it…I wish I had, at your age."

Melly chewed her lip, "Please, don't say that. I've done nothing except make a mess of things. I just wish that - no - I don't wish anything. I simply need to be honored that a man took the time to write me a letter like this, and carry on, right?" She looked up at her mother for reassurance.

"If you're certain, baby -"

"I'm certain, Mother. It makes my heart break to say it. But I realize that for whatever reason, I've caused him a great deal of pain. He feels compelled to return home, because this place reminds him of me…I understand, I suppose…how he feels."

Scarlett nodded, but then sighed, "So, you're sure that you don't want us to find him? We could even delay our trip…or we could visit him in Ireland, I suppose…it wouldn't be that long, surely, a few weeks and -"

"It would take at least two weeks to get there."

"Oh, well…I suppose…"

"No, Mother," Melly said emphatically. "Its best this way."

A knock on the door turned both of their attention to the threshold, and Rhett stuck his head in and said, "May I come in?"

"Please." Melly indicated an empty chair.

"I take it you've discussed it with her," Rhett said hesitantly, addressing Scarlett, who nodded.

"I want to make certain that she understands what all it will mean, Scarlett," he said softly, then addressed Melly, "My accompanying you and your mother is a serious matter. The society folks you've worked so hard to gain acceptance with will consider it the height of scandal. There'll be repercussions that won't be pleasant, at least in a social sense. You may find yourself not invited to parties, even snubbed."

"Are you suggesting -"

"No, Melly. I just wanted to present you with the worst case scenario. I think that's only fair, you see, to consider your happiness in this. It may not be as bad as all that, of course. Your situation is unique, after all. But Scarlett and I have always attracted a considerable amount of negative attention."

Melly shrugged. "Wade and Ella certainly suffered no such repercussions."

Rhett smiled wryly. "They made the best of it. I daresay that Wade's used my mystique to his own credit…"

"I realize that its different for me," Melly said shrewdly, "If I were a young man, I could make my own way, or if I had a husband like Ella, I could rest upon his good name…I believe that is your point, is it not?"

"Melly doesn't care about that kind of silliness, Rhett," Scarlett interrupted.

"Look, Scarlett…I want her to have the opportunity to speak. If she has an objection, I'd like to hear it."

Melly said firmly. "I have no objection, so long as you treat my mother well."

Rhett sank to his knees on the floor and took his daughter's hand in his. "You have my word, Melly. I promise that I will not disappoint you in that…would you mind if I apologize to you, too, for any distress I might have caused you by my actions? Its occurred to me that you should have been the first person consulted in this rather than the last…"

"Oh hush, Rhett," Melly shook her head, "I realize that you love one another. And I realize that it would be nothing short of a tragedy to allow true happiness to slip through your hands…"


	26. Chapter 26

_**N/B: **I can't believe that this is the last update of I, Melly! I can't think everyone enough for all the support of this story. I hope that you've enjoyed reading it; its been a joy to write! Thank you so much for all of your kindness, especially with me being a novice on this site. I value all of the feedback tremendously! That being said, I would love to hear your thoughts regarding the conclusion. Sincerely, The Scarlett Starlet_

* * *

><p>26. The Final Act<p>

On the boat deck astern, facing the docks, the tall, slender young woman watched in fascination as the tugboats began to maneuver the large passenger liner to its moorings. From where she stood, leaning over the railing, she had a bird's eye view.

Leaning down, she whispered to the child standing beside her, "Look, Gerald. Ireland, you see it?"

At twenty, the young woman was remarkably pretty, the beneficiary of the great good looks of her parents, which written clearly upon her own features. The gossip had run rampant round the ship regarding the uncertain status of Miss Melanie Wilkes's betrothal. There were - it was said - at least three suitable candidates in the running. And why not? Despite the checkered past of her mother, thrice widowed and once divorced and now remarried to the man who had divorced her, the daughter had made her own mark upon high society, all of it positive. She had studied at the Ladies' Academy of St. Cyr, in France, taken a degree in Language Arts from Vassar College, and, in accordance to the wishes of her late father, Ashley Wilkes, she, along with her mother and stepfather, had rebuilt his grand estate at Twelve Oaks, which was only a few miles down the road from the home of her sister and her husband. But in the minds of the staid, genteel matrons who had shared passage with the Butler family, an even more extraordinary event was one that had not even involved Miss Melly herself. A mere six months after their remarriage, the Butlers, both well into middle age, had welcomed their son, a boy named Gerald. It was certainly atypical, of course, that the small boy had accompanied his parents on every sea voyage they had undertaken since infancy, and yet, to any and all observers, it was clear that the boy was the apple of his parents' eyes. Their easy affections both with the child and with one another attracted glances of admiration and understanding rather than any sort of disapproval. After all, how often did one get a chance to set right the errors of one's life?

"Melly?" a woman's voice called from behind the pair. "Melly, is your brother with you? Oh, there you are. I was worried."

"I wouldn't let him out of my sight for a moment, Mother," Melly reassured her. Scarlett hardly looked reassured, although she did look beautiful, as always, having chosen for their arrival in Ireland a silk dress of emerald green, its high collar edged with Brussels lace, the same that edged the cuffs of the long, full sleeves.

"Come along, then," she said to her daughter and small son. "We'll be hard-pressed to get off once we've docked…there'll be such a push, I'm sure."

"Now, Scarlett, I'm quite sure that we'll make it without too much trouble," her husband winked broadly at her, then gave his black bow tie one final adjustment. "Gerald, you're ready, I presume?"

"Yes sir," the five-year-old said proudly, drawing himself to his full height, then squealing with delight as his father picked him up and swung him round and round.

Melly looked upon the scene with tenderness, thinking that it would have been a terrible travesty indeed had Rhett not been blessed with the opportunity to be a father again. Gerald's birth had been like an elixir of youth for him; even though he was in his mid-sixties, he could have easily passed for a much younger man.

"What do you plan to do when we return in two weeks, Melly?" Rhett queried as they disembarked.

"Well, my friend Edelyn Carmichael's wedding is on June 7, and even though it is to be a small family affair, I've been invited to attend, so I hope I shall arrive in time to do so."

Rhett's eyebrows shot up in surprise at the word 'wedding', then shot a glance at his wife, hidden laughter in his eyes. They both knew that Melly hated such affairs, and only attended the ones which society most demanded. The Season prompted many weddings and betrothals always, and Melly, at twenty, had been under increasing scrutiny as to the matter of her own imminent engagement. He had even heard that there were bets being placed as to which of the eligible gentlemen would prove himself worthy of his daughter's hand. And that…that was just fine with Rhett.

"Well, we'll arrive in New York on April 4," Scarlett said, "that should give us plenty of time to visit with Wade and do some spring shopping, then its back to Atlanta by May."

"Do you really want to spend the entire month in New York, Mrs. Butler?" Rhett teased. "I would think that you've seen one department store, you've seen them all."

"Oh but you should see them, Rhett! They're so big, it takes days! And the restaurants, mercy, don't get me started…"

Melly took her little brother's hand and gave it a squeeze. "Don't get her started…"

Gerald looked up at his sister with a big, toothless grin as their parents shared a kiss. "I won't, Melwy."

Her heart melted like butter. They were on and on her for not getting married - but how could she go off and leave him while he was so small? Her mother liked to travel entirely too much…and they were so incandescently happy with one another, it was a pity not to give them their time alone while she watched out for Gerald.

After a quick carriage ride from the ship to the harbor, they had paused for a brief respite at a local pub, the food in which, in Melly's opinion, could not compare with Maureen and Jamie's fare in Savannah. After their meal, an omnibus was secured to drive the Butler's and several of the other wealthy tourists to Garrettstown Beach for an afternoon outing, and Gerald and the rest of the younger children could hardly contain their excitement. The little boy's energy was evident in the game of chase he was engaged in with his father while they waited at the side yard of the docks for the omnibus.

"It's here!" he shouted in his high-pitched five-year-old voice, grabbing Rhett's coat sleeve in his haste to be the first to board.

"Ladies first," Rhett reminded him gently, pulling him back as first Scarlett then Melly, then the rest of the ladies were handed. Then Gerald, being the youngest, was allowed sit directly behind the driver, which they all knew to be his most fervent desire.

"What a sight we must seem to all the locals," Melly said, laughing at her brother, who was veritably hanging out of the window. "Especially him…"

"Do be careful with him, Rhett," Scarlett urged her husband. "Hold onto him so that he doesn't fall."

"He won't," Rhett said, showing her that he had a grip on Gerald's jacket. "See? I have a good hold on him."

Arriving at the beach, Melly and several of the other young ladies hastily changed into their bathing costumes of dark flannel, which covered them from ankle to wrist. Throwing off her overcoat and caution to the wind, Melly grabbed Gerald's small hand and rolled up the legs of her costume, kicked off her slippers and danced among the ebbing waves.

"This is much better than the beaches at home!" Gerald declared loudly. "I like Ireland!"

"I like it too," Melly agreed. "Come on with you, little man. Mother will be mad if we linger overlong."

"Daddy won't care," Gerald said stubbornly. "Don't wanna go yet."

Melly rolled her eyes. She would not expect any less from Rhett; he had spoiled Gerald hopelessly from the day he was born. Of course, she couldn't blame him for it, after all, Gerald's birth had been nothing short of miraculous. But the look of horror on her mother's face told a different story of expectations for them.

"Come back here!" Scarlett called, her voice carrying over the roar of the surf and the wind. "You'll both catch a chill."

Laughing merrily, Melly and her brother cavorted down the beach towards their parents, admiring the seagulls as they swooped down just over their heads.

"Let's build a sand castle!" Gerald asked hopefully.

Rhett shook his head. "We don't have enough time, son. I'm afraid our tour is scheduled very precisely. The Ballymaloe House Hotel is our destination for tonight. Then first thing, we have to take the train to County Meath so we can satisfy your mother's pilgrimage."

"Fiddle-dee-dee. You're curious about the first Tara, too, aren't you?"

She looked first at Rhett for reassurance, then Melly, then down at little Gerald, who shrugged.

"Will there be food?" he looked up at his mother hopefully.

Rhett laughed as he picked the boy up and kissed him on the forehead. "Plenty, Gerald. Plenty."

Scarlett rolled her eyes as Rhett and Gerald hurried ahead of them, playing a short game of King of the Hill, having found sticks for swords. She noted that Melly had fallen silent, her eyes downcast.

"What is it, darling? Are you feeling alright?"

"Quite well, Mother, I was simply wondering how great a distance it would be from County Meath to County Down…"

Scarlett's lips thinned slightly. "You don't mean to tell me, Melanie Wilkes, that you've still been thinking about that Sean boy all of these years…why, no wonder you haven't accepted any of the marriage proposals that have been set before you!"

"I've thought them over thoroughly, Mother, you needn't worry." Melly defended herself. "But it did occur to me that while my feet were resting upon the same continent, it might be nice to at least say hello. Of course, the odds of seeing him are slim, I'd say… After all, I'm not even sure that he returned to the city of his birth after he left."

"So what you're telling me is that it could all be a wild goose chase?"

"Precisely," Melly said, though she had a peculiar sparkle in her eyes.

"What's all this?" Rhett inquired, rejoining them, Gerald at his side.

"Melly wants to go to County Down instead of with us to County Meath."

"County Down, well, that's North, isn't it?" Rhett's brow furrowed. "I suppose we could take the train there, then to Wexford, then Meath to end it all. Newry's the big city up that way, if I'm not mistaken."

"Newry!" Melly cried triumphantly. "That's it, that's the city. Its large, you say?"

Rhett shrugged. "Fifteen thousand people or so. Good sized port."

"Oh dear, I'll never find him," Melly sighed.

"Well, you are certainly welcome to look for him. Your mother and I will content ourselves with walking about the cathedrals…"

"Cathedrals?" Scarlett and Gerald said at the same time with equal amounts of revulsion in their voices.

Rhett smiled, winking at Melly before he addressed Gerald. "Cathedrals. And if you're lucky, we'll even feed you…"

After they had arrived the following day, they went to Mass at Saint Patrick's Cathedral. Melly had to stifle back giggles as little Gerald hopped from one foot to the other, eager to go on to the fishing trip his father had promised him.

"Whoa there, slow down, Gerald," Rhett whispered during the Consecration. "We still have to change clothes and grab the picnic basket back at the hotel. Then we'll be off and let Melly find her beau."

"What's a beau?" Gerald inquired.

"A young man," Scarlett whispered furtively, then shushed her son.

Laughing at the enthusiasm of her little brother, Melly patted his dark, curly head, then bounded down the steps of St. Patrick's as soon as the Mass was concluded. Though it seemed like hours, it was not long before Rhett and Gerald were loading onto a hired rig to convey them to the north end of the County for an afternoon of fishing, leaving Melly and Scarlett to conduct their search.

The churches, she presumed, were the best places to begin looking. Not that Sean struck her as particularly devout, but he had mentioned one that he had attended…

"Oh good Lord," Scarlett said as they disembarked from the coach outside of the Church of the Immaculate Conception, "It's raining already, we'll be soaked before we even get started."

"Nonsense," Melly replied, "this is barely a drizzle."

Even at such an early hour, the town was bustling with activity. Throngs of peddlers were plying their wares in the streets, the church bells were ringing the hour, and there had formed a line of curious ladies who had wanted to catch a glimpse of the two fashionably dressed American women.

Melly looked at her mother, who was frowning up at the grey sky. It was too bad that the nice weather they'd enjoyed at the beach hadn't lasted for their trip to the northern coast. She'd be sorry, indeed, if it had all been for naught. Still, something drove her forward, urging her to continue. At least the sky didn't look too dark, yet.

She heard her mother grumble, her litany of complaints so familiar she barely noticed it. But she was a little perplexed over her Rhett's good mood this morning before he and Gerald had left for their trip. He'd been so positive, so accommodating…did he know something that she did not? She wouldn't doubt it; he seemed to know everything there was to know about everything. She stifled a yawn, realizing that she hadn't gotten much rest the previous night with the trip on her mind - and the inevitable end to it. She would satisfy her own curiosity, if she even had a chance to see him at all, then they would return home and she would be forced to accept her predetermined matrimonial fate…all that was left was to decide which of the three candidates was less repugnant than the other.

She was at least glad that her Mother and Rhett had agreed to long spring voyage before she had to make such a decision. She had to try, at least try…and they were willing to allow her that chance. She had, after all, afforded them the same courtesy.

Her mother had said to her, _You've got an entire ocean to cross before a decision has to be reached…if you want to make it at all…_But Melly knew that the decision had to be made. After all, she was a female, an heiress in her own right. She was Melly Wilkes of Twelve Oaks. Marriage was the logical next step…if only she could discern which of her suitors were more in love with her than her fortune. Mason Kershaw had been case in point, and when he had finally established himself as a wealthy entrepreneur and come calling, Melly had (wisely, in her opinion) refused to see him; after all, he had proven himself another man completely than the one she had fallen in love with at the tender age of fifteen. Mason had married, of course, to an heiress from New York, and had apparently done right well for himself. That was all well and good, Melly thought, but just the same, she felt sure that she had made the right decision.

Still staring at the street vendors, she was close to giving up on finding Sean McGinnis, when her mother called her name from atop the church steps where she had been speaking with an elderly priest.

She hoped for a second that perhaps the priest knew him, perhaps he would say that yes, he was a regular parishioner, and lived just down the corner…but then she began to shake at the thought of seeing him again after five long years…

But her mother was shaking her head.

"I'm sorry, Melly, but Father Flanagan here says that there haven't been any McGinnis's in Newry for quite some time."

"Sure and there's not been. I make it me point to know every youngster that's here for Mass on Sunday. There's no Sean McGinnis here, I'm tellin' you, lass. Best be checkin' in another parish."

"But he told me that he sang here!" Melly cried, "in the Church of the Immaculate Conception. All his life he said…"

"And you're certain his name was McGinnis?" The priest inquired, his brows furrowed. "I only know of one Sean and he's…well…surely not! Well, if you'd want to be seein' if he's the one, you'd have to walk back over to Queen Street. Nice part o' town. I take it you're stayin' at the Cranfield, am I right?"

At their nods, he continued. "The address is 12 Queen Street, and ask the man at the door to see His Lordship's second son. He'd be able to assist you, ma'am…"

Melly almost had to be dragged into the large townhouse, awed as she was by both the size and the scope of the place. Sean had obviously done well for himself, securing an appointment to a great Lord. Perhaps he was his personal musician? That would hardly seem interesting for someone so free-spirited as Sean, to be held captive to the whims of a patron. But clearly, by contrast to the rampant poverty she had witnessed throughout their tour of Ireland, the Lord who employed him was exceedingly rich, and Sean would have had to been a fool not to accept whatever situation was offered. Her mother, Melly noticed, was looking without much reaction at the antique paintings on the walls, which had to be centuries old. There were huge crystal chandeliers and muted wall coverings which perfectly accented the fine art that adorned them. Nothing was glittering and gaudy like the fancy French décor her mother had preferred as of late.

She'd met a British nobleman before, at a ball in Charleston - this one an affable, middle-aged Duke with more money than sense, so she'd felt no pressure to observe stringent protocol that was followed so carefully on the continent. She smoothed her hair quickly, taking a seat in the parlor where the butler had left them.

"I'm sure he thinks that we're crazy," Scarlett muttered aloud, "…asking for their hired help."

"Hush, Mother," Melly implored. "We mustn't act like complete Americans…"

"We _are _Americans -" Scarlett reminded her daughter, but she didn't get to finish her remark, as Melly stood up suddenly at the sound of someone walking through the parlor door.

With a laugh of delight, Melly leapt toward the door and was engulfed in a bear hug that she returned wholeheartedly. So many years had passed since she had seen him, at least the only man she had called a true friend, the man who had loved her, wholeheartedly, for herself, that such a wealth of emotion filled her, almost bringing tears to her eyes.

"Sure and I didn't believe Fitzsimmons," Sean said with a laugh. "A young lady, he says, a Miss Melly Wilkes. You actually here? 'Tis a liar I called him. I even got angry that he was gettin' me hopes up."

"Melly did too," Scarlett put in, then extended her hand. "I'm Melly's mother, Mrs. Butler. I assume that you are the mysterious Sean McGinnis we've heard so much about?"

Sean nodded. "I am. But might I ask, how was it that you both found me? I wasn't aware that anyone knew -"

He was cut off by the butler, who had returned with a silver tray filled with delicacies.

"My Lord, shall you and the young lady and the Madam require anything else?"

"No, thank you," Sean shook his head, dismissing the man, and then laughing throatily at Melly's stunned face.

"McGinnis is me mother's name. I couldn'ta made me way in music if I wasn't what the rest of the lads were, good solid Irish. It's sorry I am that I misled you, but it all was true, what I told you in the pub, 'bout me Da bein' an English soldier married to an Irish girl."

Melly shook her head, "you said that your father was a -"

"Barrister? Aye, so he is now. And away at present. You see, he's Baron of Killowen. And Lord Chief Justice of England…but he did make me work in the dairy for me passage. Just as I said. I made me own way there…"

"But - why?" Scarlett looked befuddled.

"Well, ma'am, 'tis easy enough to want to shirk ones duties, bein' the second born and all…and I must confess I had a bit of a talent for music, so I wanted to see…'twas not but vanity, so it was. But now, unfortunately, me older brother died this Christmas past, me mother several years before. That was why I left…that and I assumed…"

His voice trailed off and Melly understood what he meant; he had assumed that she did not return his sentiments of love, and he had not told her that he was as wealthy or wealthier than she because he had hoped that she would have fallen in love with him for himself, as he had with her. And she, in her blindness, had not seen him for anything but a poor Irish lad with a crush on an unattainable American far above his station.

"I can't blame you for drawing that conclusion," Melly said finally. "I'm sorry for it."

"Atch, Melly, 'tis no need to apologize."

"Yes there is." She couldn't take her eyes off of him, his expression inscrutable as he returned her gaze.

She began carefully. "I read your letter too late. I understood it all too late. But I've carried it with me for five years, thinking that somehow, somewhere, if it was meant to be, our paths would cross. But I understand fully if your feelings have changed, or if you are otherwise…committed."

"Not…yet."

Her throat constricted at that reply. There was no help for it. She couldn't stand the thought of coming all this way without saying what she had to say, but she had hoped for better than _that_!

"I understand," she said softly, glancing at her mother, who looked downright angry at the way the conversation was turning.

"Well you haven't been exactly _forthright_ with Melly either," Scarlett snapped, "She's been in London twice since you left, surely you could have written her, surely you could have made an effort!"

"Mother-"

"No, your mother is right, Miss Melly. I apologized for that, to your Da, when I saw him last night."

Melly tried to mask her surprise. "Rhett? You came to see him last night?" And why didn't he ask to see her? For that matter, why didn't Rhett mention that?

"I heard that you'd come to Newry. And I thought…well, I'd hoped…I thought that I'd reassure him that he'd not need to worry about you while you were here…if, of course, I could prevail upon you to stay."

"That was very _thoughtful _of you," Scarlett said sarcastically, still feeling slighted that her husband had kept something from her.

"It worked," Melly said, emotion welling up inside her again, "He was in very good spirits this morning."

"Well, 'tis nothin' to cry over!" he teased.

Melly wiped her eyes. "Would you ask me, please?"

His hand touched her cheek. "Miss Melly, would you do me the honor of allowing me to court you properly?" He then looked at Scarlett, "With your Mother's permission, naturally."

She couldn't believe that he was saying it, and so tenderly. She had such an urge to laugh, to shout for joy, to jump up and down in giddy delight. She guessed that the feeling was mutual. But she nodded in her consent, then blushed a little. "Don't be surprised when I tell you I've been waiting for you to say that for five years. And not just because of all of _this_. I came here thinking that you were just -"

"A poor Irish peasant?" he grinned again, reminding her of her hurried assumption at their first meeting in the pub.

"I didn't care though. I only wanted to clap eyes on you again, to tell you how much that I…I missed you, so very much."

"And I you, Miss Melly…and I you…"

**. . . .**

Rhett Butler's new suit had been delivered the day before and fit him like a glove. It was an hour or so before his daughter's wedding, and he admired himself as best he could in the bureau mirror in his hotel room, turning first this way, then that way, trying to get a full look. For sixty-seven, he thought to himself, he didn't look half bad.

"You look very handsome, Captain Butler," his wife said as she leaned against the doorway admiringly.

"And you do as well, Mrs. Butler. Our daughter won't thank you for that, outshining her on her own wedding day."

"Fiddle-dee-dee. You should see her, Rhett, she's the most beautiful thing…I do wish Ashley could have seen her this day."

"I am quite sure that he sees," Rhett said, giving his wife a quick kiss and a squeeze as they left the room together. "Yes, I am quite sure that he is pleased."

Saint Patrick's Cathedral was already almost filled to capacity by the time the bride's parents arrived, having waited until the utmost last moment to dress so they would not have to chance wrinkles in the lingering, oppressive summer heat. The soft organ music combined with the pleasant fragrance of bridal flowers, which decorated the pews and alter, set the scene for the march down the aisle of the bride and her attendants.

As the organist began the wedding march, Father Flanagan took his place at the alter and the wedding party started down the aisle, beginning first with the mother of the bride, escorted by her six-year-old son, who had accepted his duty as ring bearer with utmost seriousness, then the bride's sister, the matron of honor, then the groom's sisters, all donning dresses of identical gold hues. The groom, Sean Patrick of Killowen and his supporters, including the bride's brother, Wade Hampton Hamilton, were awaiting up front, stylish in black frock coats, high cut waistcoats and gold sashes.

The entire assembly stood as the bride, Melanie Robillard Wilkes, walked in on the arm of her stepfather, Captain Rhett Butler. Her dress was flowing ivory satin, a princess-shaped gown with bits of silvery thread woven through.

"You do take my breath away, Melly," Rhett whispered as they made the walk.

"I may do something rebellious," she whispered back, "listen closely…"

A sigh of collective awe at her extraordinary beauty resounded through the room as she floated down the aisle toward her beloved. As Rhett handed her over to her groom, the look upon their faces was a joy for all to behold.

Rhett and Scarlett took their places in the front aisle, Gerald in between them until his appointed moment.

The prayers were soon said, then the vows. Melly turned toward her parents, then her groom, her eyes twinkling with mirth as her moment for response came.

"I, Melanie," the priest began.

Melly caught her mother's eye and winked, then responded.

"I, Melly…"


End file.
